Friendly Foe
by Tauna Petit-Strawn
Summary: Set during the Civil War. An injured Jarrod is on land claimed by both sides. Will the woman who takes mercy on him succeed in keeping him alive and back where he belongs. Rated T to be safe. Friendship and Romance should also be a genre...ok so romance worked its way into the story..
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

~oOo~

Victoria stood in the living room staring into the fire. She felt so numb, and the tears she'd cried could have filled any creek, flowing through their ranch, with water ten times over. When she heard footsteps behind her, she turned to see Tom, who seemed to have aged twenty years, entering the room. She turned back to the fire and to the telegram in her hand. It was from the military and it had just arrived that morning. With a Civil War tearing the land apart, the last thing she'd wanted to hear was that one of her sons was missing. Both of her boys who were old enough to be in the war had been home for a visit just a few days ago. The family had laughed and visited for hours on end, and then they'd both gone back to the reality of the war. Tears again ran down her face. How could either one of them be missing?

"He'll find his way back from where ever he's at, or someone will find him Vic; I just know it." Tom walked up behind his wife and wrapped his arms around Victoria's waist. However, she stiffened and, for a moment, Tom was sure she was going to pull away. He was relieved when she slowly relaxed and leaned against his chest.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Victoria spoke softly, "that someone will find him." There was no need for her to specify she feared a confederate soldier would be the one to find her missing son.

Tom sighed and said nothing. He simply held onto his wife and prayed for a miracle.

~oOo~

Georgia Marshall stepped out onto her father's porch and breathed in the fresh night air. It was so peaceful and quiet; quite the deception, considering the fighting her and her family had heard taking place not a mile down the road earlier. All this fighting made her rather ill. Brother against brother, father against son, all she could see was one huge family feud. How she wished it would end. Just as she was about to go back inside, she caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. Someone was going into the barn! Actually, from what she could see, they were stumbling more than walking into the barn. With her widowed father away, helping her brother, who had been seriously wounded and sent home to his family, Georgia stepped inside the house, grabbed a rifle which was kept loaded at all times, and then ran down the steps and towards the barn.

While she did not know who the uninvited guest was, Georgia could only guess, and not knowing which side he was on or what he would do, she wasn't about to simply barge into the barn. Instead, once she was by the large barn wall, she slowly and quietly made her way to the barn's back entrance. It was already part way opened, making it rather easy to glance inside unseen.

When she saw the stranger sitting on the floor, and leaning against the front of a stall, Georgia stepped inside with her rifle ready to fire if need be. It was only then she saw her visitor clearly, a man dressed in the uniform of a union officer…and he'd been wounded.

When she stepped inside, the dark hair stranger who had made his way into the barn was holding his right where he had obviously been shot. He turned his head and found himself holding his breath until the young woman took another step towards him. "Please," he spoke through the pain he was in, "help me."

A part of Georgia wanted to shoot the man right then and there. Only she couldn't, and that left her with a dilemma. Her father would have killed the man on sight. The injuries her one brother had received, another brother being killed and then another still fighting the north had entrenched hatred in her father. He despised anyone who chose to wear a union uniform. Still, Georgia hesitated… "Who are ya? What unit are ya with?" She asked standing her ground and keeping the rifle pointed at her visitor.

"Name's J...Jarrod, Captain Jarrod Barkley." Jarrod answered as he winced in pain. For a moment he thought about lying to the woman; after all, the truth might get him killed even faster. Then again, if he was to die, he wasn't going to leave his mortal existence with lies on his soul either. "I have been serving in the 10th Cavalry Regiment."

Puzzled, Georgia lowered the rifle and hurried over to him. She knelt down beside him and, moving his hand off his wound, examined it. "Did ya get shot in the process of desertin'?" She didn't care for desertion from either side; still, she could understand why many young men did it.

"No, I…" Jarrod again thought about lying, but felt strongly that, if he wanted any chance of surviving, he needed to be honest with the woman who had found him. "I was supposed to be on a train. I was being sent to Washington, but my unit was attacked earlier today, before I had a chance to leave." He thought it was unnecessary to say just who attacked them. After all, what unit of the Confederate attacked them was irrelevant.

Georgia realized she had an even larger dilemma on her hands. It would be extremely difficult to convince her father they should not turn their back on a wounded soldier no matter what side he was on. But, to convince him to actually help someone who had anything to do with Washington D.C. would be flat out impossible. With that being the case, she only had a few choices she could see. One, hide him in the barn and help him the best she could, or two, hide him in their basement and help him or, three, take him a neighbor's home…one that was known to be a conscientious objector and hope they'd help her with him.

Since her father spent too much time in the barn, she quickly checked that option off the list. Thinking on the basement, Georgia had to write it off the list too. The nights were growing colder and, as long as it might take Mr. Barkley to recover, it could very well be far too cold for him down there. No, the more she thought about it the more Georgia realized taking him, in the cover of darkness; to her neighbor's was the only real option she had. Only question she had now was 'did she really want to risk all for the enemy?'


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Trees, trees and more trees...Georgia, who had been born and raised in the area she and Jarrod were traveling in, felt her heart racing a mile a minute as she looked back at the travois she was pulling behind her horse. While a part of her wished there was a full moon out, under the circumstances she was grateful there was just enough light to travel without too much of a problem. It meant that there was little chance they would be caught by any other travelers or soldiers who might be in the area. After the biggest internal struggle she'd had in her life Georgia, had decided that, come what may, she had to help Captain Barkley. Oddly enough, the reasons her father would have used to take the life of this union soldier were the very reasons that had led to her deciding to try and save the injured soldier.

Georgia hated the fact that she'd lost a brother to the war, just might lose another one, while her third brother would always walk with a limp. However, the pain she saw in her father's eyes, and the pain she'd felt in her own heart, was pain that she wouldn't wish on her worst enemy…or their families. This being the case, Georgia just had to take a chance and do what she could…even if it meant risk getting caught and causing more heartache for her family. Okay, so the pleading look in the captain's pain filled eyes helped too.

By the time the home of Kyle James came into view it was close to ten in the evening. While Georgia wanted to sigh in relief, she didn't dare. Even a hundred yards could make a huge difference, and she knew it. Urgently she pushed her horse forward, praying fervently every step of the way. Call it providence, call it luck, call it a miracle, call it whatever you want, but Mr. James stepped out onto the porch just as she approached and, taking one look at the "cargo" she was hauling, flew down the steps. By the time she dismounted her horse, Mr. James was examining a now unconscious Jarrod.

"Who is he?" He looked up at the young woman he'd known all her life. To see her bringing him a wounded soldier had surprised him, to have it be a Union soldier downright shocked him. He was sure there had to be a connection between them, for her to be helping him. This being the case, he was again shocked when she shrugged her shoulders and answered, "He said his name was Captain Barkley. Can ya help him?"

Mr. Marshall would have nothing to do with the Union army neither would any of his sons and, up to the moment he realized who was heading towards his house and who she was hauling behind her horse, Mr. James hadn't thought Georgia would either. In fact, he was surprised she was even by herself as her father was so overprotective. He might have inquired into the matter further, only the wounded man needed attention badly. "I might be able to."

Not daring to yell for his wife, Mr. James lifted Jarrod from the travois and told Georgia to hurry up and open his front door. By the time the three entered the James homes, Mrs. James, a blonde haired beauty by the name of Teresa who stood just over five feet, was standing in the living room looking as shocked as her husband had felt a few moments before…and she was asking the same questions and getting the same answers.

When Georgia went to follow Mr. James into the bedroom where he was taking Jarrod, Mrs. James stopped her. Unlike her husband, who would soon be fighting to save Jarrod's life, she had the time to ask more questions and demand answers. She took Georgia by the arm and led her to a beautiful flowery sofa which sat against the south wall.

"Don't get me wrong, girl. We'll do what we can and we'll say nothin' when it comes to the fact that it was you who brought him here; still," Teresa said as she looked upon her acquaintance, "why are ya helpin' him? Does yer daddy know about this?" When she started throwing other questions out, Georgia held up her hand and stopped her.

"Believe me when I say I never thought I'd be helpin' anyone fightin' on the other side." Georgia looked towards the now closed bedroom which sat in the northwest corner and then back at Mrs. James. She went on to talk about families and the pain that had already come because of the war. "Maybe I'm jist gettin' tired of it all, but all I could think of when he was beggin' me ta help him was the fact that he had a family somewhere. It didn't matter whether that meant a wife and children, his parents and siblings or whatever. And," she paused and looked at the palms of her hands struggling to control all the mixed up feelings she was having, and then said quietly, "As I thought on that; I saw ma' dear departed mother and wondered 'bout his."

Somehow, it did not surprise Teresa that Georgia was thinking about others when she had decided to help the stranger. Still…what of her father?"What 'bout yer daddy? Surely, he ain't consented to this?" If he had, Teresa was going to get her smelling salts…whoever was with her would need them when she fainted.

"He's with ma' brother, won't be back 'til tomorrow." Georgia answered, as she stood up and began pacing the floor. She was nervous and couldn't sit still.

Teresa frowned. That was unlike Mr. Marshall. She said as much too.

Georgia, who had stopped in front of the fireplace, gazed into the burning fire and sighed. "Daddy didn't want ta leave me alone, but I fought him on it. I'm plenty old enough ta take care of myself and Paul and his family needed him." She turned around and looked at Teresa. "Once Mr. James comes out and tells us how Captain Barkley is, I gotta get home. Please, promise me, keep me informed?" After investing time, and taking the risk, to bring the captain to the James', Georgia needed to know it wasn't all for nothing.

Again, Teresa frowned, as she was concerned any continuing involvement with Captain Barkley would only lead to trouble for the young woman. Yet, how could she deny the request either. It was obvious by the anxious look upon Georgia's face that to do anything less than what she was asking would be pure torture on her. "All right, but..." Teresa said as she pointed towards the seat beside her, "ya have ta agree to sit down and then allow my husband ta take ya home. We'll have to come up with a believable excuse for you being out at such an hour, just in case."

She knew full well that Mrs. James was right, especially since there was no guarantee her father would not arrive home early. Georgia nodded her head in agreement, though she said nothing. She was too busy thinking and not just on the man called Jarrod Barkley. No, she was thinking on all the men who were fighting or wounded and away from their families. How she hated war.


	3. Chapter 3

**Friendly Foe **

**Guest...I looked at the story you are referring to...and how it can be "vaguely familiar" to you is beyond me as it's on the front page and is currently being posted. I won't say what message that sends to me... as I've sent the wrong message a number of times to other people before and not on purpose. Anyway, I have talked to the other writer and, from what we both can see, the only similarity is the fact that the main characters are wounded and being helped by a woman. And, quite frankly, I dare say that covers 90% of fanfiction. This being the case...I'm a bit puzzled as to why you felt prompted to ask me if this story was inspired by it. If you don't want such a public reply? Please, sign in next time so conversations can be kept off the board.**

**Chapter Three**

Georgia did her best to keep her mind on the task before her, getting supper ready for her father and two Confederate officers. However, as she cut up the vegetables her mind continued to go to Captain Barkley. A part of her was wondering why Mrs. James didn't get a hold of her; the other part chastised her and reminded her it hadn't even been twenty-four hours yet.

"_No news is good news."_ She found herself repeating the phrase more than once. Of course, the fact that as long as the union captain was hidden among them and could still be caught was not exactly easy on her nerves.

"Be careful, daughter," Mr. Marshall, a balding, gentleman who was in his forties, poked his head into the kitchen just as Georgia was grabbing a pan off the stove; she'd come close to burning what she'd been cooking, "Our guests have already been more battles than we can count. Let's not make their supper one." There was a twinkle in his brown eyes as he teased her.

"Yes, daddy," Georgia forced herself to act if the food she'd been cooking almost turning into burnt offerings was the whole thing she was dealing with. She was more than relieved when her father turned and left without saying anything else. Thus she was left alone to finish cooking and set the table. When it came time to eat, she kept any comments she made to a minimum and simply listened. It was a habit she'd grown accustomed too. Not only did her father believe children should be seen and not heard, he thought young adults should let their elders speak first. Which meant, in their case, Mr. Marshall talked and she simply listened. Most of the time she resented it; however, in this case, she was grateful no more was expected of her. At least she could listen and learn and maybe, just maybe, continue to be of a help to Captain Barkley. After all, sooner or later, he'd have to try and get out of the area.

"I don't care what anyone says." Major Thomas Jones, a tall wiry fellow with a handle mustache and had fought in a number of battles, spoke as if his nose was far too high up in the air. "This is not going to be over in a day, a week or even a year. It will last for years. Before it ends, much of that Yankee blood is going to be spilled if I have to follow them wherever they go and do it myself!"

The other officer, a man by the name of Captain Matthew Benson, hated Yankees, though he didn't speak in such a manner as to grate on her nerves…and he wasn't quite as blood thirsty. He'd seen as many battles as Major Anderson. Like the major, the captain thought the only good Yankee was a dead one. However, unlike the major, the captain never threatened to do it all by himself. In fact, he had stated more than once that if the Yankees would just get off the south's soil, he'd be more than happy to leave them alone.

Though, any thought Georgia had of simply daydreaming flew out the window at the next words the two gentlemen and her father spoke.

"I hear a couple of Yankees from that outfit that was hit yesterday were found and sent to Andersonville. One of them is wounded quite badly and kept asking if 'the hurt captain' got away okay. Wonder if he was right in his head. I don't cotton ta the idea of any yankee hiding out on southern soil while he heals to fight another day!" Major Jones growled as he seethed with hatred.

"I heard the same thing, but I ain't been able to find out. I was thinking that maybe we ought ta go over to the James' place, ya know with them not taking sides they might get it into their heads to help any wounded man who came to them." Captain Benson snapped.

Georgia felt her heart racing, as she hurried to come up with an idea to divert the gentleman away from the James' farm long enough for her to warn them before these men and, from the look in her father's eyes, her own father went searching there. "Ya know," she said making sure her voice sounded as infuriated as theirs; she just had to make them believe she was sincere in the words she spoke, "there's also the Taft, Smith and Cooper places that union soldiers might hide. Since I need to stick close to home," she said looking at her father knowing full well how he felt about her wandering "too far" from their place, "the three of you could go check those other farms while I went to the James'. After all, I could convince Mrs. James, I was only there out of genuine concern for her and her family's safety." She then held her breath hoping like mad her father and his two friends would fall for it.

Mr. Marshall looked as if he was having an eternal war going on inside of him. He didn't like his daughter getting involved and yet she had a point. Mrs. James and she were good enough friends that the woman would easily let Georgia in, thus freeing him and his friends to look in other areas. On the other hand, if there was a union soldier in the area, he could take advantage of her. He started to tell her that she needn't bother when Major Jones spoke up, his voice betraying how eager he was to start the hunt.

"She's right. I know Mrs. James. She's more likely to cooperate if there's another smooth talkin' female talkin' ta her. We gotta protect ourselves from these northerners!" He looked at Georgia, who was succeeding in looking as if she had every intention of helping them hunt down any, and all, of their enemies.

Mr. Marshall still didn't like it, only he begrudgingly admitted his daughter had a point. "Okay, but you push that horse of yours as fast as possible and use that gift of persuasion you've perfected. I don't want ya over thar longer than necessary."

Georgia, barely containing her excitement, stood up wearing the most serious expression she'd ever had on her face. "Don't ya worry, daddy. I'll move as fast as possible. I'll take it ya won't mind ma' takin' a pistol or rifle with me? I mean, I gotta have something with me, just in case."

Again, Mr. Marshall came close to stopping her, would have if it hadn't been for his two friends who were chomping at the bit to get to the other homes she'd mentioned. "Jist get what ya need and get out of here and back!"

"Yes, daddy!' Georgia turned and ran out of the dining room. In no time at all she was riding like she'd never ridden before. After taking the risks she had, the young woman had no intention of dragging her feet and endangering the northern captain. For the first time in her life, Georgia prayed that she'd have the courage and strength to keep her feelings from her father, something she'd never had to do before…and the war hit home once more.


	4. Chapter 4

***What state they are in will come out in the next chapter only…I want to apologize right now. The accent I have them using? I don't know how close it is. I am only using it to make a distinction between the two sides (North and South).**

**Chapter Four**

Georgia, who had flew off her horse and barely tied it to a tree outside the James' home, now stood in the living room looking rather wild eyed and talking too fast for Mrs. James to understand anything. Well, understand anything more that there was major trouble heading their way if they didn't do something.

"Slow down, girl." Mrs. James put her hand on Georgia's shoulder while the young woman took a deep breath and did her best to get control of herself. "Now tell me, what is wrong?" Just as Mrs. James asked the question, her husband stepped out of the bedroom where Jarrod lay sleeping.

"Kyle, dear, there's trouble." Teresa James nodded towards Georgia. "She rode hard to come and warn us." The whole time Mrs. James was speaking she was giving her husband a look that said _'I can't believe she's taking such risks for the stranger only I'm glad she is.'_ Mr. James assumed it was because they were both sure the man could be no more than twenty-three, twenty-four at the most. And, in their book, that was just too young to die.

"Who knows he's here?" Kyle looked at Georgia, his face showing he was now very alert and listening.

"No one," Georgia answered, as she glanced towards the window, "That is, they don't know he's here in this house." She went on to explain how her father had had the major and captain over to eat, what they'd said and what she'd done to prevent them from coming to the James' home. "How is he doin'?" She asked as she finished her story and looked at the slightly opened door.

Kyle couldn't help but smile. Right or wrong, he figured as good hearted as Georgia was, there was also a bit of infatuation going on. Not that he could blame her. She was definitely old enough to be noticing the males who might be around her and, from what he could see; he wouldn't be surprised if Captain Barkley had turned a few heads already. "Go in and see fer yourself, just be quiet." He then looked at his wife and started talking to her about the different ways to handle what might very well be coming their way as Georgia headed for the room.

**~oOo~**

Georgia, who was now standing at the foot of the bed, looked upon the sleeping officer she'd helped the day before and was risking everything to warn the James' so they could take precautions to continue to protect him. What on earth had gotten into her? She should be married not fighting for the life of a union soldier. Then again, most of the men, young and older, were off fighting the war. Again, she found herself fighting a battle of her own. Even though she knew why she'd taken such a huge risk the night before, why was she taking it again? More importantly, just how often could she take the risk and get away with it? As she walked around the foot of the bed and up its side, Georgia found herself looking down into the face of Captain Jarrod Barkley once more. Right or wrong, she found herself running her fingers down the side of his face. There was something special about him, she could feel it. However, the moment he groaned Georgia pulled her hand away.

Slowly Jarrod opened his eyes. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the light that was in the room. The last thing he remembered was running, wounded, and trying to find shelter that would hide him from the confederate soldiers who had attacked his unit and then retreated. When he turned his head and saw Georgia standing next to the bed looking more than a bit nervous, the scene from the barn came back to him. That is, everything up to the point when she'd helped him lie down on the travois. After that, everything was a blur. "Where am I?" He groaned as he asked the question, not even realizing his uniform had been removed and a nightgown put on in its place. Then, because he did remember he'd never gotten her name the day before, he added, "Who are you?"

"Yer at some friend's home, and ma' name's Georgia Marshall." She went to explain exactly who the James' were and why she, Georgia, was back at their home. The minute she said her father and his friends were looking for him, Jarrod tried to move, horrified that he just might be putting his rescuers in danger… only to find Miss Marshall's arms pressing firmly down on his shoulders.

"Mister, don't ask me why I'm a helpin' ya. I don't rightly know, but I am. The James' have also put themselves at risk keepin' ya here. I don't reckon they'd take kindly ta ya just up and leavin' when ya ain't better yet." Georgia told him as she let go of his shoulders, once Jarrod had stopped struggling to get up. The young woman before him was right; still, it appalled Jarrod to think she or either of the James' could be killed on account of his being there.

He closed his eyes as the strength to stay awake started slipping away. It was only then that Teresa James stepped into the room. "I thought I heard our visitor talkin'."

"Ya did, but he ain't strong 'nough ta stay awake very long. What we gonna do? We kin't let them find him and keepin' him here could very well endanger Mr. James' and yerself." Georgia didn't want that anymore that Jarrod did.

Teresa James only laughed and batted her hand through the air. "Our lives have been in danger ever since the war broke out. Ain't no secret we are willin' to help those 'round us if they're hurt. Now, you best get. I dare say yer pa will be mighty nervous if you don't git back soon."

Georgia knew she was right; still, she lingered for a few seconds next to Captain Barkley's bed, and then walked out of the bedroom and out of the house. As she mounted her horse Teresa, who stood on the porch, told Georgia that Mr. James and she had burnt Captain's Barkley's uniform to protect his identity. She told Georgia to tell her father and friends that, currently, 'the James' were helping an injured Confederate soldier'. Her words were "If you consider it a sin to lie, pray the sin be on my head."Georgia turned her horse around and sped home, never once thinking to ask the good Lord to put any sin that was on her head onto another person. In her book, that was as just bad as the blasted war was.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Tom, who had been outside working, stepped inside his home just in time to see Audra slugging Eugene and Victoria prying the two apart. He sighed; it fighting with each other. "WHAT is going on?" He snapped as he shut the door behind him. Instantly the two children, who were making faces at each other, stopped and dropped their eye to the floor.

Victoria let had been too long of a day to come in and find the two children they had at home go of the now very still children and shook her head. "I was just trying to find that one out myself."

"Well," Tom asked as he rested his fists on his hips and looked at Eugene and Audra.

"No matter what you say, Jarrod ain't dead!" Audra lifted her head and answered, though it was Eugene she was snapping and glaring at not her father. The child was proud and stubborn, not stupid.

Eugene fought to keep his tears from rolling down his cheeks. "I didn't say it!"

Tom and Victoria sucked in their breaths. One could have heard a pin drop as Tom knelt in front of his youngest son and put his hands gently on the lad's shoulder. "As far as we know Jarrod is very much alive. Where did you hear otherwise?"

Eugene thrust his hands in his pockets and turned his eyes downward again. "I heard one of the ranch hands talking to Duke." Eugene started sniffling. "He said you and mother got a telegram the other day from the army. He said the army don't know where Jarrod's at. He said there was no way a union solider could survive alone in any state that confederate army considers their territory, and that Jarrod had to be dead." He then admitted McColl had gotten after the ranch hand and told him to shut up.

Tom might have corrected his son's English when it came to 'don't and doesn't', only he was far too angry. All the ranch hands had been told not to talk about Jarrod's situation as he and Victoria didn't want to this very thing to happen…Audra and Eugene being scared that is. By the time he was through, there was going to be one less ranch hand…even if he, Tom, had to do extra work until they got new help. He took a hold of his young son's chin and tilted it up. "Yes, we got a telegram the other day." Tom forced himself to speak calmly, for the sake of his children, "But, your brother is not dead."

Confusion filled Eugene's eyes, as it did Audra's; she was holding onto her mother's skirt by this time. "How do you know that? If the army doesn't know where he's at, how do you?"

Tom looked at Victoria, who was looking as torn up as he felt inside. He knew that she was wondering just as much as he was how he could feel so sure Jarrod hadn't been killed. He also saw the hope; a hope he knew the family needed to hold onto. "Some things can't be explained, son." Tom slid his hands down Eugene's arms and took his small hands in his larger ones. "I just know it. Just hold on to faith, okay?" He asked, as he squeezed Eugene's hands ever so slightly.

"Yes, father." Eugene slid his hands out of his father's and threw them around Tom's neck and held on for all he was worth.

~oOo~

Georgia stood in the kitchen washing dishes and listened to her father and his friends sitting in the living room talking about the union armies and missing union soldiers.

"I can't prove it!" Major Jones shouted at Captain Benson. "All I know is I found some papers not a mile away. They were orders to some union officer by the name of Captain Barkley. The orders told him ta go ta Washington! He has ta be, or had ta be, in this area. He had ta be hurt bad too. Why else would I find his orders on our land? And," the major continued ranting, "Don't remind me the north says Missouri's in their union! We seceded in the fall of eighteen sixty-one; I don't care what anyone says. This here is southern soil! I say we start another hunt up! Only this time we go inside people's homes…just in case they've taken pity on the man!"

Georgia's heart skipped a beat. As far as she knew Captain Barkley still wasn't in any shape to hide from these men, and they would carry their threat out when it came to entering other people's homes. Only problem was, how could she go back to the James' without arousing suspicion? Just as she started racking her brain for an idea, her own father handed her the solution.

"Georgia!" Mr. Marshall bellowed from where he sat. Georgia hurried into the living room through the archway that separated the dining room from the living room.

"Yes, daddy," she said wiping her hands on the apron she wore.

Mr. Marshall looked at his daughter, pausing as he thought on what he was going to ask her and if he should change his mind. He might have changed it too had it not been for his hatred of the north. "How much trouble did ya have gettin' into the James' home the other day?"

It was all Georgia could do to put an extremely serious look upon her face. "None at all, Mrs. James was very polite." She then told a little white lie out of fear of being questioned about the "confederate" soldier the James' were helping. That is, questions that the men would demand answers to if they knew she'd actually been in the "sick room" as the James' called it. "She let me into livin' room and we talked. Afterwards, she sent me on my way. She had ta get back into the sick room."

Her father pointed his finger at her and said, "I want ya ta go back there. Come up with some excuse and get her ta let ya into that sick room. Talk ta the soldier they're tendin' too." He looked at his friends with an evil look in his eyes. "No reason ta barge into anyone's home when we can simply have someone walk in. If they're lyin' and it's a northern soldier they're helpin', ma' Georgia will know it."

His friends started grinning and laughing. They liked their friend's way of thinking. "Can you do it?" All three men looked at Georgia, who was still fighting to cover up the fact that she wanted to fly out of the house and get to the James' as fast as she could. She'd come to realize over the past few days that, having already crossed the line when it came to helping Captain Barkley, she had to continue to do so.

"You bet I can!' Georgia threw anger and hatred into her voice and her eyes just to reinforce the idea that she was with them on this matter, not against. She turned around, hurried into kitchen, put the rag away and then hurried out of the house, leaving her father and his friends to decide which houses they themselves would search.


	6. Chapter 6

*I got talking with a friend about the area of Missouri Jarrod was supposed to be in and its scenery. She pointed out the fact that over a hundred plus years landscapes change….trees are cut down, rivers can dry up or be diverted etc. Guess that explains why every time I thought of bring up pictures of the area on the internet the muse got annoyed. So…I'm definitely using writer's liberty here. Call me what you want, only I'm not going to go find pictures that would show what the area would have looked like back during the Civil War.

**Chapter Six **

Kyle, who had walked out of one of the three bedrooms his home held and into the living room, shook his head as he heard Georgia telling Teresa what was going on. Some days it felt as if it was raining cats and dogs, and this was one of them.

Georgia stopped talking when she saw the expression of grave concern and anxiety on both Teresa and Kyle's face. Without a word being said, somehow she knew there was something going on besides her father and his friends. She found fear gripping her heart, as she thought on the union captain. "Is Captain Barkley okay? Did somethin' happen?" the pitch in her voice rose as the panic she felt revealed its face.

"He's got some infection, but he's a strong one. He's fightin' it and holdin' his own." Kyle quickly assured her as he glanced back towards the sick room and then to his wife. "Do ya want ta tell her or should I?"

Georgia's panicked feeling only worsened as she looked at the James' and what else they had to say. She watched as Teresa took a deep breath and said, "We've got a badly injured confederate soldier in the back room. Kyle found him a couple of hours ago. We've been debatin' what to do. We can't have both Captain Barkley and this other fellow both under this roof." She sighed as she thought on Mr. Marshall and his friends. She felt strongly that, sooner or later, the men would come to the house themselves. Teresa knew her husband felt the same way, as he'd said so after he'd brought the confederate soldier home.

"We've got to find another place for Captain Barkley." The words were out of Georgia's mouth before she had time to even think about it. However, the moment she said them she knew she was speaking the truth. It was no longer safe for him here at the James'.

"We agree. While it's safe enough for our other friend, it's not wise for Captain Barkley to be here anymore. However, that's where our problem lies." Kyle put his hands on his hips and rocked on the back of the heels of his boots. "Neither one of us can leave right now. No matter what, Teresa is needed here, and I have obligations ta keep…ones I can't turn over ta someone else without havin' ta explain everythin'."

"There is an old home that is empty, ten miles from here." Teresa piped up. "Folks are known to take shelter in it now and then. It's surrounded by a hundred trees and can hardly be seen from the road on a good day. Should someone notice smoke risin' smoke from its chimney, it would be no big deal. We know that 'cause Kyle's done it in the past and never been bothered once. We were jist tryin' ta decide if there was anyone we knew who would be willin' ta take the risk of takin' care of him there. That is, would be willin' ta even take the risk it would be available. There's also an empty house three miles from here."

Georgia again thought on her father and her brothers, along with everything they'd been through. Her mind then turned to the confederate soldier that now lay in the back room and Captain Barkley. The James' were right. The confederate soldier was safe where he was; he could heal and then either go back to battle or home. _'Did she really want to risk all for the enemy?' _ The question she'd asked the night she'd found Captain Barkley in the barn came back to her full force.

"What are you doin'?" Teresa and Kyle both asked as they followed Georgia as she walked over to the sick room, opened the door and stepped inside. They then watched as the young woman stood next to the bed and looked down at Jarrod.

Before she had a chance to answer, Jarrod opened his eyes. Even with the slight fever he was running, he knew who was standing beside him. He gave her a small smile. "Hello," he said before closing his eyes and slipping back into sleep.

"Can ya have him in a wagon and ready ta go tonight? For now, gettin' him to that house three miles away will have ta do. No one can make ten miles in one night, not by wagon anyway." She turned and looked at the James', who were standing with their jaws hanging to the floor. They couldn't believe what they were hearing.

"Ya cai't take him! It's too dangerous!" Kyle exploded. "Yer daddy will be all over the place lookin' fer ya! And, besides, Captain Barkley's not yer responsibility!"

The fierce look that leapt into her eyes as she stood tall was enough to knock both Mr. and Mrs. James' off their feet. "He became ma' responsibility the moment I intervened, a responsibility we have _shared_ up until now." She paused and, with her shoulders slumping slightly, added in a much less harsh tone of voice, "I'll leave a note for ma' father sayin' somethin' extremely important came up and not ta look for me. I'll tell him ta pray we see each other when this war is over."

Again, the James' stared at her. "When this war is over? We don't know when that will be!" Teresa laid her hand on the set of drawers that stood next to her, just to keep herself steady as she felt rather weak.

"I cin't turn ma' back on him." Georgia said, as her eyes pleaded for them to understand. "And, even when he's well, do ya really think it will be safe for me here? I mean, havin' helped him do ya think I can stop helpin' any wounded I meet even if it means leavin' Missouri?" She then shook her head as let out a somewhat frustrated chuckle. "Do you think I could come home and not tell ma' father what I had done or that I'll help anyone who comes to ma' door wounded? Do you really think he'd go fer it?" She then reminded the James' she knew how to hunt and fish and had, on numerous occasions, been 'out in the wild' with her family learning to live off the land…even in winter. "I can take care of him and provide for us until he's well."

The truthfulness of her words was something neither Kyle nor Teresa James' could deny. If Georgia was indeed successful in helping the northern captain and came home, Mr. Marshall would demand answers and then hell would follow, especially there were rumors he had connections with the *Missouri Raiders. "Are you sure, Georgia? If ya do this, ya might find yerself without a home after the war." Kyle asked, the anxiety he felt for her was in his eyes, as they were in his wife's.

Again Georgia sighed. "I'll have a home only question is….where?" She then looked at Jarrod Barkley and then back at her friends. "Will ya be ready?"

After struggling with their consciences, both Kyle and Teresa nodded. Kyle would have Jarrod bundled up in a wagon and waiting for her after dark. He'd have maps, food and money for her. Only when she'd hurried out of their house did Kyle turn to his wife. "Heaven help me, I wish I knew of another way." He sighed and then went to check on the confederate soldier. Afterwards, he helped his wife gather the supplies that Georgia would need when she returned.

A/N If you want to learn more about the Missouri Raiders; there's plenty of information on the internet...probably your library too.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Georgia stood on the porch of her father's home. She had worried about how she was going to leave a note and then leave without her father catching her. However, it seemed she and Captain Barkley had a guardian angel working overtime for them.

_"I'm sorry, Mr. Marshall." Adam Henderson, a man who lived near her brother, stood at the door speaking with her father. "But yer daughter-in-law sent me, yer son fell and is hurtin' bad, won't let her fetch for a doctor. She was hopin' ya'd go to their place and talk some sense into him, and then stay until the doctor has checked him over."_

Once again, Georgia had stood her ground and convinced her father that, as long as he left her a rifle, she'd be fine.

_"He needs ya, daddy." Georgia said again as her father climbed into the wagon._

_ "I still don't like it, but I reckon ya've proven how well you kin take care or yerself." Mr. Marshall said, as the wagon pulled away from their home._

Georgia turned and ran down the steps and to the barn. She'd left a note on the kitchen table before she'd left the house. Once inside she threw on her saddle. "Well, girl, this is it. As much as I hate how this will hurt daddy and my brothers," she said as she thought of her brother still serving in the war, "it's gotta be done. Ya'll be okay with the changes that are comin' our way, I hope." She put her foot into the stirrup and grabbed a hold of the saddle's horn. Seconds later, she was in the saddle and riding hard to the James'.

**~oOo~**

Jarrod was bundled up and lying in the wagon Mr. James was letting Georgia use, when Georgia came barreling into the yard. Both Kyle and Jarrod, who still couldn't believe Georgia was turning her back on everything she cared about to get him to safety, were more than relieved to see her arrive. They had feared her father would catch on and, not knowing that her father was at her brother's, still feared he might not be far behind.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Jarrod asked quietly, as Georgia leaned over the wagon and felt his forehead. He too couldn't believe what the young woman was doing in order to help him. She couldn't help but frown. While he'd never had a high fever, the small fever he'd had was not breaking. She hated moving him at night, in the cold, but at least the wind was not blowing and the cold wasn't all that bitter.

"Don't talk." Georgia did her best in spite of her nerves and looked at Kyle. "Where's the map I'll need?" She would have asked for the supplies only she wasn't blind; she could see that all the provisions that were also stacked in the back of the wagon.

Kyle shook his head for the thousandth time, as he pulled out a map from inside his coat pocket and handed it to her. "Stay on the back road until you get to the Miller's old home. You can spend the night in their home. It's the first place we were talking about, the one three miles from east of here."

Georgia didn't argue, as she put the map inside her own coat and climbed upon the buckboard. The Miller place was three miles away, and she needed to get going. "Thanks, take care," Moments later she was pulling away from her neighbors. As she did so Georgia fought back the tears that wanted to come. While she wasn't sorry for what she was doing, it didn't mean she wasn't going to miss her home or that she wasn't hurting over what she knew her father and crippled up brother would go through when they found she'd left, what it might do to the brother who was still away from home.

` "Family…" thought Georgia, she drove the wagon. Jarrod also had his mind on family; his family. The visit he and Nick had with them before this deployment had felt so wonderful. They'd laughed and talked like there was no tomorrow. Audra and Eugene had pestered him and Nick to tell them stories. Naturally, not wanting to scare their younger siblings, he and Nick had only told stories of funny things they and their comrades had done or places they'd seen. When asked about battles, they'd simply told the children not to worry about them. When the wagon hit yet another bump in the road, Jarrod couldn't help but let out a groan. "Sorry, sir," Georgia glanced over her shoulder, "Nothing I can do 'bout the road. We…" Georgia stopped as she caught sight of a rider heading their way. Her heart skipped a beat and she whispered just loud enough for Jarrod to hear. "Somebody's comin' this way. If yer eyes are open, reckon ya better close them and act as if yer asleep…unless yer good at putting a southern drawl into yer speech."

"Yes, ma'am," Jarrod answered quietly as he did shut his eyes. He was tired and not feeling well anyway. Besides, he didn't care to try to change his speech on this short notice.

Zebulon Peterson, a gentleman who, like Georgia's brother, had served in the confederate army, had been released from duty after he'd been severely wounded. Unable to relax, he'd moved from one place to another; he'd only just moved to the area and did not know anyone yet. He also had trouble sleeping at nights and so was out riding around. He was surprised to see anyone out driving a wagon in the middle of the night. When he reached the wagon, he was even more surprised to see that it was a woman driving the wagon. Though, sadly, he wasn't surprised to see what he assumed was an unconscious gentleman lying in the back.

"Hello, ma'am, might I ask what yer doin' travelin' this time of night," Zeb then made another assumption, "ain't good to be takin' yer husband anywhere right now." Zeb knew he was being forward only he figured, with the war goin' on, he was justified.

Georgia smiled in spite of her jittery nerves. "I…" she started to tell him Jarrod wasn't her husband, but then realized it would be better to let him believe his wrong assumption than to waste time talking. "I'm sorry, sir. I need to get my husband home. This cold ain't good fer him."

Zeb wanted to ask the young woman what she was doing taking him out at night in the first place only he made yet another assumption, as there had been trouble nearby earlier in the day, her "husband" must have been involved in that trouble. "No apologies necessary, ma'am. Though, if you don't mind, I'll ride with you for a spell. Ain't safe fer ya to be out on these roads by yersefl."

Georgia didn't want any company, especially since she only had a half mile to go to get to their first stop. "I thank ya kindly sir, but we're almost home. No need ta ya trouble yerself." She moved the rifle she had lying next to her onto her lap. It was an action that sent an unintentional message. Fortunately, her visitor took no offense.

Zeb smiled from ear to ear. He could see the woman was prepared for any sort of trouble that might come her way. "I believe ya ma'am, but ya never know when one of the *Missouri Raiders might hit. I think I best stay with you and yer husband until you get home."

Georgia fought the panic in her heart. The only place she had to go to was the old Miller place. Would he recognize it as an old abandoned home or believe it was theirs? She had to try one more time to get him to leave. "I appreciate that sir, really I do, but we're not that far away, really. Besides, why do you think we're travelin' at night? We'll be at the house and inside daybreak."

Zeb shook his head. The woman was a stubborn one at that. Though, he had to admit he admired her for it. He shook his head."I think yer being foolish. From what I can see," he said as he looked into the back of the wagon, "He ain't gonna be of any help if ya run into trouble. Still," he said knowing she was right…there was hardly anyone out at night, "if yer sure."

"I'm sure." Georgia answered and let out breath once the man turned his horse and rode back the way he had come. The moment he was gone, Georgia apologized to Jarrod and pushed her horses to move faster than ever before. They had to get to the old home Kyle had told her about before anyone else, especially a Missouri Raider, crossed their path.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

It was almost eleven, when Eugene snuck out of his room and made his way to Audra's. He slowly opened the door just enough to slip in and was soon sitting on the foot of Audra's bed. Audra might have screamed only she'd woke when her little brother had shut the door…even if he had done it quietly.

"What are you doing in here?" She sat up and, pulling her legs up to her chest and put her arms around her legs.

"I can't sleep." Eugene answered, as he started playing with his fingers. "I know what father and mother told us the other day, but I keep dreaming Jarrod's badly hurt or dead. I'm afraid." The young boy pulled his own legs up and wrapped his arms around them, imitating his sister. "Do you really think he's alive? Did you think Nick will go missing too?" That's what had really made it so he couldn't sleep…the thought that someday he could be missing both his big brothers.

Audra looked at Eugene. He looked so scared and nervous. She knew how he felt. Did she think Jarrod was alive? Yes, she had to believe it. Would Nick go missing? She hoped not; to think otherwise was just too horrible, and she couldn't handle that. Especially as she began remembering how much her big brothers had done for her before they'd joined the union army. "Jarrod's alive, and he and Nick will be home someday." Audra looked at Eugene. She knew she wasn't as wise as her parents or older brothers; still, she wanted to help her little brother out. "Mother always tells me stories when I'm afraid. Maybe," she suggested as she started getting excited, "we could come up with our own story. We can make it so Jarrod and Nick are in it, and they can be the heroes." When Audra shared that idea with her baby brother, she was rewarded when his face lit up.

**~oOo~**

Georgia had helped Jarrod into the old Miller home. The small home held only one bedroom, and it wasn't all that large. Jarrod now lay in the bed that the bedroom held, covered up with the heavy blankets. Georgia had the door between the bedroom and the small living room open so the heat from the fire she'd built would warm up the small sleeping quarters. She was sure his fever was climbing, and he'd thrown up on the way into the house. Even with as ill as he felt, Jarrod was still with it enough to want some answers…the biggest one being why was Miss Marshall willing to turn her back on everything, and everyone, she cared about to help him?

Georgia had also mixed up some herbal medicine that Kyle James' had sent with them. Once heated up she walked over to the bed. "Let's get this medicine down you." She put the drink down on the small table that was next to the bed and propped him up on the old pillows she'd found in a closet. Though she was grateful Mr. James' had not only bundled Captain Barkley in some pretty heavy blankets, but had put a few extra, heavy blankets in the back of the wagon as well. If he hadn't, they'd have none as the house was completely void of even the thinnest of blankets.

When Georgia held the tin cup to his lips, Jarrod drank the medicine down even if he didn't care for the taste of it. "Why are you doing this? I mean, turning your back on your family and everything to help me?" Jarrod asked once Georgia sat the cup back down and then double checked to make sure the blankets were covering as much of him as possible.

Georgia closed her eyes for a moment, feeling a sharp pain of guilt run through the center of her heart. She'd hated that part, the fact that her father would only have the letter on the table when he arrived home. Only now, as she thought on it, she realized there had been more to her motivations than she originally thought. When she felt like she had herself composed, she opened her eyes back up and look at Jarrod, who was now looking rather sorry he'd asked the question.

"When I was little ma' mama told me that no one deserved ta be in need of help and have no help given. I saw her give help ta people time and time again, even when it wasn't popular. Ma' daddy," she said sadly, as she sat down on the side of the bed, "he used ta be like that until tension between the states grew; before ma' mama died. Then the war broke out." She bit her lip and look upwards for a moment and then back at Jarrod, and the pain he saw in her eyes cut through his own soul too. "Ma' one brother was killed shortly after war broke out and, now, another brother is crippled up because of it. Daddy changed; he ain't the same. He's mad one minute and then sad the next." She stood up and walked to the one window in the room and looked out into the darkness.

"What has that got to do with you helping me?" Jarrod asked as he did his best to lie still as moving only made things worse.

"I told ya," she turned and looked at Jarrod with sympathy in her eyes, "It ain't right fer anyone ta be hurt and in need of help and get none. It just aint'." She walked back over to Jarrod and again felt his forehead.

"How long can we stay here?" Jarrod asked as he started to fight to keep awake. Because of the shape he was in, Jarrod couldn't remember everything Mr. James' had told him; however, he still knew they weren't at their destination.

While Georgia was worried, she didn't want Jarrod to worry too. For, while he was a tad bit warmer than he'd been, she continued to feel strongly he'd survive. That is, if he got the rest he needed. The fact that they were still seven miles from the secluded cabin in the hills that Kyle James' had been referring to…and men like the Missouri Raiders, along with the location of the Miller home, weighed heavily on her mind.

"We'll stay as long as we have to." She assured him, as she rested her hand upon his shoulder, something Jarrod found rather comforting before he closed his eyes and slept.

Only when he was finally asleep, did Georgia hurry to haul all the provisions inside and went to work on an idea she'd gotten due to some signs she'd found in the home, an idea that would keep anyone from entering the house. By the time she made a bed on the floor next to the bed where Jarrod lay Georgia was more than bushed. She prayed she'd be able to get a decent amount of sleep before she had to be up. Her rifle lay by her side, loaded and in easy reach.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

As the first light of day streamed through the small holes of the "curtains" that hung in the bedroom, Jarrod opened his eyes and let out a groan. He felt as if a train had run over him a thousand times over. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust. When they did, it took a few more minutes to remember where he was and why. While his side ached like crazy, Jarrod felt sure his small fever that had lingered for days was finally gone; at least he hoped it was. It was only then that he finally took the time look at what he was wearing, along with the fact that his guardian angel was sleeping on the floor, beside his bed. "Guess I best be glad they had something for me to wear beside a union uniform." Jarrod thought as he realized the shirt (which was just a tad too large) and pants he was wearing were, most likely, Kyle James'. His thoughts then turned to Georgia, who was beginning to stir.

Jarrod tried to move, but found himself too weak. He let out a 'humph' and tried to sit up again anyway. The 'humph' woke Georgia and she sat straight up and then, when she realized Captain Barkley was indeed awake, she stood up. Out of habit, she automatically laid her hand upon his forehead.

"I think my fever finally broke." He smiled up at his angel of mercy.

Georgia gave him a kindly smile, but shook her head. "It's definitely gone down from last night, but it's not completely gone. Here," she said as she again propped him up against the pillows and made sure he was covered up good, "don't try to move, while I go start a fire."

Jarrod might have some of the facts confused; however, he still remembered what Mr. James' had been concerned about. "Shouldn't we just get moving?" He asked as Georgia walked out of the bedroom and began working on getting a fire going.

Georgia shrugged her shoulders knowing they had no choice, but to spend at least one day in the home, or to travel at night and take the risk to their health. "In spite of what Mr. James' thought we can't afford too. We might have moved further away from Kirksville and the future might prove that that the fightin' there will help consolidate Union dominance in this part of Missouri; however, we can't pin our hopes on that. Fact is, while there ain't much chance of anyone comin' by, I still fear there's too much activity in this area durin' the day." She answered, as she got the fire going and stood back up, throwing one of the logs she'd found outside in the barn and hauled inside into the fire as she did so. She then walked over to the bedroom doorway and pointed out the danger they would have of running into men such as the Missouri Raiders. "Besides, ya can't take travelin' at night two nights in a row, not durin' this time of the year anyway; at least, not in the shape yer in."

Jarrod didn't like it, only he knew she spoke the truth. Though, as he looked at the fire going in the fireplace, he found himself voice the same concern Mr. James' had had. "Won't someone see the smoke and come to see who's moved in?"

That question had Georgia smiling wide, as she tilted her head towards the front of the house. "I found a couple of old signs and hung 'em on the door and in the kitchen window." She chuckled as she said, "They might knock on the door, only ain't nobody gonna come inside. However," she grew somber as she continued speaking, "If ya hear anythin' outside or someone knocks, lose yer voice. Some people might say we're the ones ta have an accent; we say it's them."

Jarrod wasn't going to argue with that, as she excused herself saying she was going to fix him a bite for him to eat. While Georgia was fixing him breakfast… which he was sure was going to be a small amount, not only due to his health issues, but their limited provisions…he began to think on exactly what helping him was costing the young woman. It amazed him that one as young as she was; at least, she appeared to be young, could have such compassion and mercy in her. Many people would feel sorry for him, but not enough to help…and sure not enough to turn their backs on everything they'd ever known. He knew full well Georgia could have easily turned him over to the Confederate army and he would have wound up in some prison somewhere. That is, if he'd even lived.

"How old are you?" Jarrod asked, as Georgia handed him what did indeed turn out to be a very small breakfast on the tin plates Mr. and Mrs. James' had sent with them. It was a question he normally wouldn't ask, but after his previous thoughts Jarrod just had to.

Georgia looked at and shook the thoughts that had entered her mind out. "Don't worry about it, Captain. I'm old enough." She began to turn away only to find Jarrod setting his plate down on his lap and taking a hold of her wrist.

"The name's Jarrod." He looked at her with admiration and gratitude in his eyes. "I know it's none of my concern in one way. On the other hand, I just have to know." Truth was he was concerned what would become of the young woman once he was back off Missouri soil and in Washington; if he wasn't sent back to his unit that is.

Jarrod's concern only grew when Georgia sat down at the side of his bed and answered slowly, "I'm seventeen, eighteen next month. How old are you?"

She was only seventeen? She wouldn't be eighteen until next month? Jarrod couldn't stop it; his jaw fell to the ground. It was a reaction that had Georgia smiling from ear to ear, and repeating her question. After all, if he was going to ask a young lady her age, she had the right to know how old he was.

"I turned twenty-three last week." Jarrod answered and then silently vowed to do what he could for Georgia once he was well. He went to say as much only to feel both of their hearts jump when a pounding came on the door.


	10. Chapter 10

**Friendly Foe **

******A/N I put a note in Chapter Four where I apologized when it comes to the speech I am using. I admitted I did not know what the accent would be in the area this story takes place. I also said the ONLY reason I was using it was to have a way to show the two different sides. If anyone wishes not to like it and say so WHEN THEY ARE SIGNED IN AND THEN OFFER ME A SUGGESTION THAT WOULD SHOW THE DIFFERENCE IN ANOTHER WAY, I will be more than glad to listen to the suggestion and see if it works. Anyone doing such a thing WITHOUT SIGNING IN will find their review being deleted. NO, I do not feel I am overreacting to a guest review I deleted . After all, all I am asking is for anyone wishing to leave a negative review to do it with a backbone….meaning be mature enough to sign in, thus giving me a private way to ask for their suggestions. I am always open to suggestions that will make these stories better IF a two way private conversation is allowed to be possible. The accent I am using in this story is NOT intended to be an insult to anyone.**

**Chapter Ten**

Georgia peeked through the "curtain" that hung over the living room window and watched as a group of confederate soldiers stood around a campfire. Thank goodness the unit held nothing but strangers to her. She didn't know what she would have done if it had been a local unit. After all, locals would have recognized her and she them…and that would have created a nightmare she wasn't sure she could have handled. As it was, the commander of the unit had taken more than one step backwards when she'd cracked the door open to ask what was so fired important that he'd risk his men's health by knocking on a house that was under quarantine. She smiled as she remembered the commander's words, proving the signs had did their job.

"_I needed a place for ma' men to stay for the rest of today and tonight." He then admitted that, until he saw the signs, he'd been thinking of using the house for himself and a couple of his aides. "Still, I see you have a small barn. We'll use it and pitch our tents in the yard. We won't bother ya, I promise." The commander made the promise after she asked him if he wanted his men deathly sick. He knew he couldn't risk his men catching any form of sickness when it could be prevented._

Georgia had, out of the need to avoid arousing any suspicion, offered the man some coffee beans and apologized that she did not have any food to spare. _"We have so little. I haven't been able to get anythin' ta add ta our own provisions, not with ma' husband's condition." _It had worked. The commander had taken the cans of coffee beans and no one had bothered them since. Still, she wished something would happen to get the soldiers to leave. Because she was so deep in thought, she almost missed hearing it … the sound of the bedroom window being forced open. She grabbed her rifle that was propped up against the wall and ran inside the room…just in time to see a young man trying to get inside the house.

The moment the young man saw the woman with the rifle in her hands, he froze. Georgia let loose. "What do ya think yer doin'? Do ya have some sort of stupid death wish!" She yelled, infuriated by the young man's actions. Though at that moment, she was glad that the house was small and the only window that could be opened… _and_ was large enough for a man to crawl through was the one the young man was trying to enter the house through.

"PRIVATE!" The commander of the southern unit yelled and cursed, before the young man could answer her question. By the time his commander reached his side, the private was standing outside the window and she was looking out of it.

"I asked ya before," Georgia glared at the young man while speaking to the commander, "do ya really want yer men to be wiped out by the sickness that is in this house?" She then shut the window before the gentleman could say anything, though she had to fight her laughter as she watched as the older man gave the young private the lecture of his life time. Even though she couldn't hear his words clearly, Georgia figured she could pretty well guess a lot of what of what was being said. After making sure the window was completely shut, she pulled the curtain closed. She left enough space between the curtain and the wall to let a smidgen of light into the room.

"He could try again." Jarrod said quietly, as Georgia sat next to the bed using the only chair in the house…another reason she had made sure all the windows were covered with something. If anyone had taken a good look inside, they would have known something was off, as the only furniture in the house were a wobbly table in the kitchen, the bed, the chair she was using and a dresser that looked like it needed to be thrown out. As it was, the fact that Mrs. James had sent plenty of candles with them, along with some kerosene and a lamp was a blessing that Georgia was very grateful for.

"He could, but I don't think he will." Georgia smiled, as she thought on the look the commander had given the young private. To say their commander was highly displeased would have been an understatement. Her smile disappeared through when Jarrod, who in spite of his continuing low grade fever and the fatigue that plagued him, tried once more to sit up.

"As soon as they leave we have to go." Jarrod stopped moving when Georgia sent him a warning glare and placed her hand upon his shoulder. "If they find out I'm a union officer, and that you're helping me, who knows what they'll do to you." Of course, he could imagine a few things. All of the ideas made him sicker than he ever thought possible. Then, thinking on the things Mr. James' had told him about Georgia's father and friends, Jarrod added, "Your father and those men are bound to come by. In fact, I'm surprised they haven't already."

Georgia laid her hand on his forehead once more and appeared to change the subject. "I bet ya by tomorrow mornin' yer fever will be gone." When Jarrod started to repeat what he said, he found Georgia's fingers on his lips. "If yer fever's gone by tomorrow mornin' then, once this confederate unit has left, I'll pack up the wagon and we'll leave tomorrow night." She stood up and, walking into the living room, came back with the map that her neighbors had given her and showed Jarrod the notes Mr. James had made. "We continue east towards Hannibal. However, we'll go around it and then cross the border into Illinois. Hannibal is growing fast, no tellin' who we'd run across. We'll just have to keep an eye out for someplace we can use…even if it's a cave." She didn't like that idea, but what else could they do? It's not like she knew the area they would be going into. Any trapping and hunting she'd ever done was in the opposite direction, a point she'd purposely left out while talking with the James'.

The fact that Georgia was thinking while she was talking, and had started to wonder about the wisdom of following Mr. James' instructions, was something Jarrod could see by the look in her eyes. "What's wrong?" He asked, not wanting to be left in the dark about anything.

Georgia looked at him, took a deep breath and pointed to the map. "I wasn't talkin' about the route Mr. James' gave us. If we follow the plan I just laid out," she said as she moved her finger across the map, "it will be better. Don't ask me why because I don't know, but..." she paused and fidgeted before saying, "I don't feel good about stickin' to the original plan." She stopped speaking and looked at Jarrod, hoping he wouldn't fight her.

Jarrod might have argued with her, but he couldn't; he was getting the same feeling. "Whether or not my fever's completely gone or not," Jarrod said after a moment of silence, "We'll leave tomorrow night and go the alternate route. I don't feel good about staying here." He didn't have to say why he felt that way out loud; his eyes said it for him.

Georgia heard his unspoken words and, while she didn't like the idea of moving him if his fever wasn't totally gone, how could she say no? The fact that three miles away from the James', and close to four miles from her father's home, just wasn't far enough was something she couldn't argue with. Besides, he was agreeing to go along with the change she was making. After securing his promise to simply lie still and rest, Georgia walked out of the room and found something to keep herself busy, while making sure she continued to check the windows every once in awhile…just in case.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N I edited Chapter Ten and put a note there for readers who had not yet read the chapter. I am putting it here for those who read it before I edited it. I will not post it again as it would be rather redundant.**

**I put a note in Chapter Four where I apologized when it comes to the speech I am using. I admitted I did not know what the accent would be in the area this story takes place. I also said the ONLY reason I was using it was to have a way to show the two different sides. If anyone wishes not to like it and say so WHEN THEY ARE SIGNED IN AND THEN OFFER ME A SUGGESTION THAT WOULD SHOW THE DIFFERENCE IN ANOTHER WAY, I will be more than glad to listen to the suggestion and see if it works. Anyone doing such a thing WITHOUT SIGNING IN will find their review being deleted. NO, I do not feel I am overreacting to a guest review I deleted . After all, all I am asking is for anyone wishing to leave a negative review to do it with a backbone….meaning be mature enough to sign in, thus giving me a private way to ask for their suggestions. I am always open to suggestions that will make these stories better IF a two way private conversation is allowed to be possible. The accent I am using in this story is NOT intended to be an insult to anyone.**

**Chapter Eleven**

Georgia hurried out of the house and into the barn. Soon she had the horses hitched to the wagon and was loading it. Not an easy task seeing it was now dark. The Confederate soldiers had left around noon and, as much as she didn't want to move Captain Barkley, he was right. They had to leave and they needed the cover of darkness. If only his low grade fever would just break, she wouldn't have been so worried. Once she had everything ready she wasted no time in going into the bedroom where Jarrod lay.

"Are ya sure about this?" She asked. We could just take a chance and wait for yer fever ta break." Even as she spoke Georgia knew it wasn't an option. It's not like they could keep pulling the quarantine bluff off.

"Yes, I am." Jarrod said as he, with Georgia's help, swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up. She helped him put on the heavy coat that the James' had given him. "Question should be, are _you_ sure you want to keep helping me. It's costing you everything you've got." He didn't like that part and wasn't afraid to say so.

"Not everythin'," Georgia responded as Jarrod leaned on her as the two of them left the house, "Mama always said if a body didn't have their integrity in tact they didn't have a thing, and I reckon I still got that."

Jarrod couldn't help but admire the young woman whose mother had obviously taught her so well. He vowed right then and there not to do anything that would endanger her anymore than she was already. Once he was in the wagon, Georgia retrieved all the blankets in the house and once again made sure Jarrod was bundled up warmly, grateful her coat was fairly new and quite heavy. As the horses started pulling away from the old house Jarrod's mind went back in time, back to when he first told his family he, like Nick, was joining the army and going to fight.

"_Nick's already serving in the military!" Tom stood next to the fireplace while Victoria sat on the couch with tears in her eyes. They were looking at their oldest son and thinking of Nick, who had already seen one battle. Right or wrong, the couple were terrified of having another son in the war; their life in jeopardy. "My friend, Jonathon Blythe, just sent me a wire. He's offering you a job in his law office! He's got strings he can pull. There's no need for you to go too!" Tom took a step away from the fireplace._

"_Please, Jarrod," Victoria pleaded, "Listen to your father. It's a good job offer."_

"_I'm sorry." Jarrod's heart went out to his parents as he saw the pain and sorrow in their eyes. "I told you yesterday I was joining and…" he took a deep breath as he said, "I have. I leave tomorrow."_

Jarrod stopped thinking of the past when the wagon jerked to one side and he let out an involuntary groan. Naturally, Georgia quickly apologized. "I'm sorry, Captain. This road isn't the best, not the worst by any means, but not in very good shape either."

"Jarrod, I told you the name is Jarrod." He couldn't see any reason for Georgia to be so formal with him, not after everything she was doing for him.

"All right, I reckon there's no reason not at call ya by the name…" Georgia started to answer, but quit as she caught sight of a jackrabbit. One minute she was spotting the rabbit, the next minute she was shooting it. What little meat they could get from it would make a nice treat.

Not knowing what was going on, Jarrod bolted up right only to find Georgia apologizing and urging him to lie back down, as she jumped out of the wagon. "Bad timing' I know, but we need the meat."

Jarrod lay back down and chuckled softly. As far as he was concerned, it _was _bad timing only, in one way, it had him laughing inside. And, truth be told, he needed something to laugh at. It wasn't long before Georgia threw the dead rabbit into the back of the wagon and climbed back up onto the buckboard.

As they continued on their journey, Jarrod wondered if he'd ever be see home again. _"War is hell, son. Nick admitted he didn't know what he was getting into when he insisted on joining. You don't know either!"_ Tom's words rang in Jarrod's mind as he felt Georgia turning the wagon onto a path he assumed was not the main road. It was an assumption he made due to the fact that the wagon started moving slower. His let out another small groan. Jarrod had to admit his father had been right. After making that admission to himself, Jarrod recalled his and Georgia's discussion from the night before.

"_They were standin' outside the kitchen window. I heard them clearly." Georgia stood next to Jarrod's bed. "They used an old abandoned home along the route I was talkin' ta ya 'bout; they used it before they came here. They said they almost missed seein' it. It's go there and deal with things or stay here, but as ya already stated; ya don't feel good about stayin'." _

"How far have we traveled and how much farther do we have to go?" Jarrod asked, as he closed his eyes.

"We've traveled at least four miles best I can tell and, from what I overheard, I'd say we have another mile at the most." Georgia answered, praying they'd get to the home the soldiers had mentioned, vowing once again to get Jarrod Barkley well and at least back with a union outfit.

**~too~**

Buck Marshall, who had found his daughter's note and had been searching for her, now stood in the home that, unbeknownst to him, had indeed held his daughter and the captain his friends were still looking for. _"Year description sounds like the woman that let us use her barn and gave us coffee beans, but she had an ill husband. Their house was even under quarantine." _The words the southern commander who he had run into rang in his ears. He had seemed sincere and yet Mr. Marshall couldn't imagine that his daughter would simply run off and get married. Still, he knew he just had to check.

He looked into the fireplace and shook his head. There was no way to know how long the ashes had been there for they were as cold as ice. He walked into the kitchen…nothing. He shook his head and walked into the bedroom and again shook his head at the condition of the dresser. He walked over to the window and pulled the curtain, if one could call it that, to one side. He was amazed to see a sign fall to the floor. He picked it up and read the big, bold letters, **QUARATINE**. The sign looked rather old. At that moment, he guessed that whoever the couple had been had used it to keep the commander and his men away. That bothered him as the only reason for a person could have, when it came to keeping people away, was if they were in hiding. That might fit the northern captain, but it sure didn't fit his daughter.

Tired and discouraged, Mr. Marshall threw the sign down, cursed and left the abandoned building. He didn't know who the couple had been and he didn't really care. All he wanted was to find his daughter, but he had no clue as where to look...or did he? Like the James', he remembered "that house" and wondered. Mounting his horse, Buck Marshall took one last look around the yard and then headed down the path Jarrod and Georgia originally meant to take...deciding that he should at least see if the couple went there and if it was Georgia in spite of his doubts.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

Georgia stood in the living room of the two bedroom home. She and Jarrod had arrived two hours earlier. There was an old couch against the west wall, a couple of wooden chairs and a fireplace on the east side…along with one of the two bedrooms. Through an archway on the north side, lay the kitchen and another bedroom. The place was well hidden, she had to admit it. In fact, she'd almost missed it. She could see why the soldiers had used it when they had the chance. There were so many trees surrounding the place and the house practically blended into its surroundings.

Georgia looked at the fire that was blazing in the fireplace; one built from some of the wood that had been left behind by the soldiers that had been at the previous house she and Jarrod had used. There was, she hoped, enough to last at least a week or so. At least, she was hoping it was those particular soldiers who had left the wood behind. The last thing she wanted was to have to deal with more Confederate soldiers again. After all, it's not like she could use the old quarantine signs again.

Georgia then peeked into the room where Jarrod lay; the room lay on the west side of the living room. The first thing she'd done was to help him out of the wagon and into the bed; grateful that the mattress seemed to be in decent enough shape, not the best, but usable. After covering him up with a number of blankets, she'd brought in the dead rabbit along with what provisions they still had. She sighed and went to check on Jarrod.

Georgia laid her hand upon Jarrod's forehead and frowned; it was felt warmer than it had been. The ride in the winter air had definitely not done him any good. She then took a quick peek at the area where he'd been shot. It seemed to have healed up fine, only he still had the fever. She was pretty well frustrated. "Well, Captain Jarrod Barkley," Georgia said quietly straightened up and brushed his bangs away from his forehead, "For better or for worse, we're not going anywhere else until yer better. If we're careful, our provisions will last out the week, might get lucky and get some more rabbit."

Jarrod stirred when he heard Georgia's voice and thought on what she'd said, when he'd asked why she was helping him. He couldn't help but wonder if he'd get a chance to thank her mother someday and, if he did, would the woman tell him he was welcome or would he find out she had never meant for her daughter to take her words 'that way'. Chuckling, he allowed himself to fall asleep hoping it would be a long time before he ever had a chance to find such a thing out.

Georgia didn't know what Jarrod was chuckling about as stirred and then settle down, but she told herself that he had family somewhere and maybe, just maybe, he was dreaming about them. Never once did she ever think he might be dreaming about her and her upbringing. Again, she made sure he was covered well and then walked over to the window. Taking a hold of the curtain that had been left behind, which was in a tad bit better shape than the last curtains she'd had to deal with, she pulled it open…relieved to see that good sized window was made of dozens of little windows and could not be opened. _"Well, at least we won't be getting any visitors through this window."_ She thought as she closed the curtain.

Once Georgia shut the curtain and walked out of the bedroom Jarrod was using, she went through the house and checked all the other windows. The kitchen window was small and was covered with what looked like to be a part of a burlap sack. The front room windows; there were two of them, were also covered with the same material. However, when Georgia entered the second bedroom, she found it held a window that was just large enough for a body to climb through, and could be opened. This being the case, Georgia went into the kitchen. Looking through the few drawers, she was relieved to find a few nails in the last drawer. Picking a couple up, she went to the door and cracked it opened. While it was still a tad dark outside, it wasn't so dark that one could use the lack of light as covering. Seeing no one, she quickly slipped outside, grabbed a rock and hurried back inside. Shutting the door, she reached up and pulled down the wooden latch that someone had installed. The wooden latches in the home, one by both the front and back door, was something Georgia had been very much relieved to find.

After securing the door, Georgia hurried into the other room and in no time at all had pounded a nail above the bottom half of the window…on each side so as to prevent it from being raised and opened. Then, not wanting anyone to be able to look inside to see nothing but a chair and empty bed frame inside, Georgia again went to work. Retrieving the last of the nails in the one drawer, along with the one blanket she'd thrown onto the couch, she nailed the blanket over the window.

Having done all she could to secure the home, Georgia checked the fire and then went to look in on Jarrod once more.

The moment Georgia walked into the room Jarrod, who had woke up, turned his head. He had heard the pounding noise and, out of curiosity, would have pulled himself out of bed only the moment he moved Jarrod knew he wasn't getting out of bed. "What were you doing?" He asked, as he watched the young woman cross the room and sit down on the edge of his bed.

"Makin' sure we git as much privacy as possible. Ya need rest and plenty of liquids, if we ever hope to see ya healed up properly." Georgia answered.

Jarrod smiled and, without thinking, slid his hand over to where her hand rested on the bed and covered her hand with his. "You know, no one was supposed to know where my unit was. Colonel Stewart said our destination was supposed to be a secret, and William usually knows what he's talking about." He gave her hand a slight squeeze. "I owe you my life. Thank you." He was surprised when Georgia's eyebrows turned down and a puzzled look came into her eyes.

"What is it?" Jarrod asked, as a couple of coughs escaped his mouth. The coughs chased the puzzled look off Georgia's face and a concerned one took its place due to the fact it wasn't the first time he'd coughed. She quickly laid her ear against Jarrod's chest and listened. An action that would have put a smile upon his face, only he knew she was only checking to see if he had contracted pneumonia.

"I'm gonna go through the rest of the herbs that Mrs. James' gave us. Ya might not have pneumonia, but I fear ya are tryin' ta come down with it. Ya don't need that right now." Georgia stood up and headed for the door. "So, like I said, before, no matter what, we're stuck here until ya are back on yer feet. I heard the sound of water running as we pulled up. When it's dark, I'll take a chance and take the pails I saw in the kitchen and go fetch some water. You lie still no matter what."

Jarrod didn't like the idea of her risking anything, but knew she was right when it came to the water bit. He closed his eyes and rested, determined to get Georgia to tell him why the name William Stewart had gotten the reaction it did. However, it was something he would have to do later…as he was fast asleep by the time Georgia walked back into the room.


	13. Chapter 13

**Friendly Foe **

***Guest, I have approved your review for one reason alone….you were far more polite in your reply. When it comes to the accent, you are very much entitled to your opinion. However, it stays. Why? For one simple reason…when I first started writing, I had an experienced writer tell me that as long as I fought "the muse" (or whatever you wish to call it) I would always have a hard time writing. I don't want to have an extremely difficult time writing this story and, sense it is not meant as an insult to anyone, it stays.**

**Chapter Thirteen **

Nick stood in the doorway of the tent he was sharing with another officer. By the look in his eyes one might think the young lieutenant had his mind on the fact that he and his unit were, according to rumor, about to face yet another skirmish with the enemy. Only Nick's mind was far from any rumor of battle he, his commander or any of the men with them might face. His mind in fact was dwelling on the last time he'd seen his older brother, along with the uneasy feeling that had been his companion for the past week. He was so deep in thought that he didn't see or hear his commander approaching.

"Something wrong, Lieutenant?" *General Alderson stopped beside Nick and asked. The young man was proving to be one very dependable and trustworthy leader, one that the men with them greatly admired. If the young lieutenant knew something, the general wanted to be told.

Nick didn't answer as he lit a cigarette he'd just rolled and then lit it. Afterwards he sighed and said, *"When I was sixteen, I was stuck in a mine." His shoulders slumped slightly forward. "My brother was away, yet he knew I was in trouble. He left everything and came to my rescue." Nick kicked the dirt that was underneath his feet as the frustration he was feeling spilled out. "Well, I can tell you my brother, Captain Jarrod Barkley, is in some sort of trouble, only thing is…" He said as he growled and kicked the dirt again, "there's not one thing I can do about it! Do you know how that feels? I mean, have you ever had feelings when it comes to members of your family only to find yourself totally helpless to do anything about it?"

General Alderson sucked in his breath. The young man's question brought an array of mixed emotions. He'd heard many stories of men that had a strong connection with members of their family, or loved ones, though he'd never had any personal experience of that nature with any member of his family. Shaking his head, his commander slapped his hand down upon Nick's shoulder and shook it ever so slightly. "No, but I know many who have. All I can tell you is to do is pray, son, and pray hard." He then sighed and walked away, leaving Nick alone with his past thoughts and his cigarette.

"_I told you that, while they weren't happy with your decision they'd come around." Nick gave Jarrod a smile, one filled with both the joy of seeing his brother and a feeling of resignation that their time with the family was near over for now._

_Jarrod shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know that they'd come around per say, but yes, they are doing their best to support both of us during this bloody nightmare." He leaned forward and let his one arm hang over the top of the corral and he took a puff on his cigar. He lowered the cigar, sighed and turned his head. "I just wish I could promise to give them what they want."_

_Nick didn't have to ask what Jarrod was talking about; he already knew. Their parents wanted the same thing every parent at this time wanted, what many were not getting. "We'll come out of this war alive, Jarrod, you just wait and see."_

_Jarrod took another puff on his cigar and winked at his brother. "I sure hope so, Nick. I'd hate to think I'd spent all that time in law school for nothing."_

"Where are you, Jarrod? What's going on?" Nick spoke the words, out loud, to no one in particular. Of course, he didn't expect to hear anyone answer. He just had to ask the questions, if for no other reason to get them out of his system. Well, get them out for a little while anyway. He continued to stand where he was until he heard the general calling his name. The only reason he even walked away was because the man outranked him.

**~oOo~**

Under the cover of darkness, Georgia slipped out of the house she and Jarrod were now using and hurried to the creek. She hated leaving Jarrod alone even for a few minutes, but they had to have water. After getting the water, she headed back to the house, only to receive a near heart attack, when a stranger stumbled out of nowhere and collapsed at her feet. As the stranger was in a Confederate uniform, Georgia might have thought she had the dilemma of who to help except for one thing…this man was on his last legs and would be gone in minutes. The only thing that worried her was the fact that he kept muttering; 'how did they find out?' and "I could have gotten them'.

She knelt down and, out of a need to know just how close "they" were, asked, "What happened?"

The stranger looked up at what he was convinced was a vision and replied, "Don't matter... at least it wasn't the two the Missouri Raiders I was after… I was gonna kill them… for killin' two of ma' friends." He went to say something else, only he took his last gasped breath and died.

Georgia stood up and practically ran to the house, even if some of the water in the pails did spill. She reached the house and shut the door just in time, as not two minutes after entering the home the two men the dying man had talked about appeared. Georgia, who had put the pail down and cracked the very small window next to the door open just enough to allow her to hear anyone approaching, could now hear the two men talking.

"He's dead! I didn't shoot, did you?" she heard the first man ask.

"No, but I would have. Hank said the man was gonna turn on the raiders." The second man answered only to give Georgia heart failure when he suggested they take refuge in the house. Desperate to keep them out and get them to leave, Georgia shocked the men by sliding the rifle through the small open portion of the window and barking.

"If ya have any gratitude in ya, ya'll leave this place!"

The men looked at each other confused. Then the first fellow, a tall somewhat heavy man, took a step towards Georgia and asked, "What are ya talkin' 'bout?"

"Yer friend there meant to kill the two of ya only he made the mistake of tellin' ma' husband!" Georgia replied back, "Ma' husband doesn't believe in ambushin' anyone unless one is with his comrades and in battle. So, ma' husband confronted, and killed, the man before he could git ta ya only he took a bullet doin' it. I have taken care of ma' husband but he needs rest and no visitors…period. If ya have any gratitude in ya, ya'll, give him the space, privacy and the time he needs ta recover." Georgia's heart was pounding a mile a minute, praying to be forgiven for the lies she was throwing out.

Shock now showed on the men's faces and, for a second, neither one said a word. Finally the second man, a shorter, thinner fellow broke the awkward silence, "He'll have the time and space he needs. Ya'll need food though and wood ta burn to keep warm. Ya kin't exactly do all that and take care of yer man." The man said, as he turned around and pulled a large sack off the back of the mule he'd been leading while riding his horse and carried it to the porch, "That's cornmeal, should last ya awhile." The man said as he looked around. Spying an old ax lying on the ground near the ground he simply assumed it wasn't in its proper place due to the man inside being wounded. He picked up the ax and started splitting some nearby wood. Though it made her rather uncomfortable, Georgia pulled the rifle out of the window, though she kept it in her hands as she watched the man work.

"Thank yer husband fer us." The genteman stepped up to the kitchen window where he could see Georgia standing inside looking out. The other man removed a small bag from off his horse and laid it down by the cornmeal telling her it was herbs that were good for healing wounds and curing sicknesses.

"Thank you." Georgia did her best to smile and nodded slowly as she continued to keep from showing how nervous she really was. "I'll do that."

The men then mounted their horses and rode promising once more to do as she asked. The moment they were gone Georgia moved away from the window, turned around and leaned against the wall of the kitchen and allowed herself the luxury of breaking down and letting her tears flow. Only after she composed herself would she slip outside and retrieve the items the two men left behind.

*The general from "The Court Martial".

*Refers to Jarrod's remark in "Night of the Wolf".


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen **

Georgia sat on the edge of Jarrod's bed and sighed, as she laid one of the few rags the James' had given her when they left their home. She had spent a good portion of the night either helping Jarrod roll onto his side as he coughed up mucus, or doing what she could to bring his fever back down. As hard as she'd prayed, he had still developed pneumonia. She might have complained only with the miracles they'd already been blessed with, Georgia figured she'd best just be grateful for the herbs the one gentleman had left them. Though, she had to fight the somewhat guilty feeing that plagued her for the lying she'd had to do to get the man and his friend to leave.

"I'm sorry to be such a burden." Jarrod said as he opened his eyes and looked up at Georgia. He didn't know what he'd ever done to deserve the blessing of having someone was compassionate as Georgia find him and come to his aide. He just hated what helping him was costing her.

Georgia smiled kindly and shook her head as she sat up straight. "Ya would only be a burden if you were ornery and rude. Ya are neither. Yer parents raised ya right."

Jarrod felt a slight twinge of pain in his heart as she mentioned his parents. He missed them like he'd never missed them before. "Yes, for any mistakes they have made, they are wonderful parents." He coughed again and then said, "My brothers and sister aren't so bad either. You'd like them." Jarrod couldn't help but smile a little as he thought on Nick, Eugene and Audra. He missed them just as much as he did his parents.

When he coughed again, Georgia urged him not to bother talking and excused herself. As she left Georgia told him, "Ya need some liquid down ya. I'll be right back."

Had he not been feeling so bad and thinking about his family, Jarrod might have stopped to wonder where she was getting the herbal drink she had given him a few times now. As it was, the only thing he did when Georgia came back in was to accept the drink she offered him, close his eyes and rested, hoping for more sleep to come.

While Jarrod slowly fell alseep, Georgia walked over to the window and peeked through the corner of it. When a deer wandered through some trees a good hundred yards from the house, Georgia couldn't stop her mind from going back in time, back to a time just before her mother fell ill and died.

"_Look at the deer, mama!" Georgia stood inside her parents' home looking out the window, as more than one deer passed through their yard. Mrs. Marshall, who had been in the kitchen working, had walked next to her daughter and joined her. "Aren't they beautiful?"_

_Mrs. Marshall did her best to smile, as she didn't want to pass on any troubled feelings she had on to her young daughter. "Very beautiful,"_

_As much as her mother might have wished for Georgia not to see through her, she still did. "What's wrong, mama? Everythin's so peaceful; how come ya and daddy said many would die someday soon?" Her parents had been talking that morning of the trouble between the north and the south. It had served to both confuse and trouble the young Georgia Marshall. Confusion and a trouble mind was Georgia could do without._

_Mrs. Marshall's only answer was to smile sadly, tell her not to worry about anything as there was nothing any of them could do when it came to other people's choices. "Let's just enjoy the beauty around us for now, my dear." Mrs. Marshall said and then changed subjects._

"What would ya think mama?" Georgia stepped away from the window and walked back over to the bed where Jarrod lay sleeping. "So many are dyin', some from mortal wounds, a good deal more from sickness." She fought back tears as she added as she ran her fingers down the side of Jarrod's face. "I couldn't just sit back and watch him die. I still can't. What would ya think of him, mama, and what I am doin'?" She asked the questions never expecting any sort of answer. Thus, when she felt an overwhelming sense of well being roll over her and heard her mother's speaking, Georgia was more than a bit startled. _"Ain't nothin' wrong with carin' and helpin', just be careful with yer heart." _Her mother's words rang in her ears at the same time the feeling passed through her. At that moment, in spite of turning her back on everything she'd ever known to help the good captain, Georgia felt comforted knowing her mother approved of the fact that she was helping Jarrod Barkley. Though, it did puzzle her when it came to the part about her heart. Sure, she'd admit Jarrod Barkley was one very handsome man, but they hardly knew each other. Why would she have to worry about her heart?

Georgia turned and walked into the living room. The fire she'd built was starting to die out. Georgia peeked out the door and then quickly retrieved some of the wood that sat against the outside wall and took it inside. She put the majority of it up against the living room wall. She put the rest of what she'd brought in into the fire. After making sure the fire kept going, Georgia returned to the bedroom where she had made a bed on the floor. She was tired and laid down, a thousand questions running through her mind. Questions like…what would Jarrod say when he found out that, due to the cornmeal the two men who ran with the Missouri Raiders had left them she hadn't had to worry about chance leaving the house except for water? What would he think when he found out the herbs that were fighting his sickness came from the same source? Most importantly, would he still want her help when he did find out? Due to those questions and the rest that ran through her mind it took Georgia a little while before she drifted off into some much needed rest.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

Jarrod was struggling to sit up when Georgia walked into the room. She hurried over to the bed and helped him sit up. "I should be able to sit up on my own." He said as he rested his head against the wall. He hadn't felt this weak in ages and he didn't like it, especially considering where he was at.

"Ya will have ta give yerself time. It will take quite a while before yer really better. I mean, ya were sick long enough ta scare me. I was afraid I'd be buryin' ya instead of watchin' ya walk away from this experience." Georgia gave Jarrod a sympathetic smile as she sat on the edge of his bed.

Jarrod looked around the room and out into the living room where he could see a fire going. There was a couple of rabbits hanging in front of the fireplace, and it looked like there were some decorations made from twigs hanging next to the mantle. It was this sight that made it so Jarrod felt like he'd been hit him with a ton of bricks just what Georgia had to have been through. That is, besides abandoning everything she knew to hide him and take care of him. "Exactly how long have we been here?" He looked at Georgia and locked his eyes onto hers as he thought of the days and night that had mixed together.

Georgia heard his other unspoken questions. Questions such as: 'How much wood was here when we got here? If you needed more, where did you get it? When did you have time to do any hunting or fishing? How did you keep from having anyone see you when you left to do those things?, plus a hundred more.

"Close ta a month," She stood up only to have Jarrod take a hold of her wrist, his eyes pleading for her to stay. Slowly she removed his hand. "We'll talk more, after I've gotten ya somethin' to eat." Smiling, she turned and walked out of the room.

Jarrod kept his eyes on Georgia until she disappeared into the kitchen, this time determined he stayed awake, determined to get some answers to the many questions he had, including her earlier reaction to his commander's name.

**~oOo~**

Jarrod sat back against the back of the couch, a small amount of perspiration running off his forehead. While he was still weak, he was grateful that he wasn't as weak as he had been. Though he still couldn't believe how much of a struggle it had been to go from the bedroom to the living room…and Georgia had been helping him! From where he sat he could see her preparing their food. He sighed as he once again realized how hard all of this must be on her; he couldn't help but admire the strength he saw in her, though he was going to find out just where she'd gotten the supplies he saw either sitting on the table or against the kitchen wall. As he watched Georgia work his mind went back to the conversation they'd had before she'd gone into the kitchen to cook a bit of supper for both of them.

"_Georgia, what is it?" Jarrod leaned back, resting on the couch. He'd once again mentioned his commander, William Stewart. Again, Georgia had seemed uneasy and unsure of things. It made him nervous as he thought maybe, just maybe, the man was a traitor to the Union. The idea made his stomach churn, and he just had to get some answers. "What do you know about the man?" _

_Georgia looked at her hands as she rubbed them together; it was obvious she was rather nervous. Finally she broke the uneasy silence that had fallen between them. "I heard Major Jones talkin' ta my father a few days before I found ya. I didn't hear everythin' that was said, only I did hear my father say 'Are ya sure?' and the major answered 'Ma' contact knows a __*****__pretty young girl, quite naïve but very talented and one who is givin' him bits and pieces of information to him and his friends. Believe me, Colonel William Stewart and his men will never see...'" Georgia sighed and shrugged her shoulders. "I didn't hear the rest because ma' sister in law came along and distracted me. Yer commander and yer men were betrayed."_

_Jarrod felt anger swelling up inside him; still, he did not let it spill out. It wasn't Georgia's fault, but he swore when he got back he would find out who that 'pretty young lady' was and, naïve or not, expose her for what she'd done. Because the revelation had thrown him for a loop, he didn't say anything until Georgia spoke his name. "Jarrod?" She laid her hand upon his arm._

Jarrod snapped out of his thoughts when Georgia walked in and handed him a small wooden bowl, one Georgia told him she'd found outside shortly after they arrived. She'd had to clean it up, but it was sturdy and did its job. Now it was full of food for him. "Thanks," Jarrod smiled as he started to eat the food she'd handed him. When Georgia sat down next to him, he asked, "So, how have you've managed to keep us supplied in wood, meat and where on earth did you get the rest of the food I see in the house while tending to me?" He couldn't imagine her having the time for all that when he'd been so ill.

Remembering the men and the close encounter she had, Georgia took a deep breath, looked at Jarrod and explained everything, along with the fact that the men had returned one other time. "They brought the bag of potatoes ya see in the kitchen, along with some vegetables...things that would keep me supplied with things ta make soups out of." That had been Jarrod's saving grace, she just knew it as he couldn't handle solids for much of the time. "The rabbits were unfortunate enough to get into some traps I set outside, but close ta the house." She finished, and then watched as Jarrod struggled to get his eyes back in his socket.

"They could have discovered the truth on those two occasions and killed you for helping me." He spoke softly as he gazed upon her, once again amazed at all she had been, and was, doing for him.

Georgia shrugged her shoulders as she stood up. "They could have, but they didn't. Now, as much as I prefer ta stay here, I'm gettin' the same impression I was before. I know yer still rather weak and I don't like the idea of leavin' so soon as it could cause a relapse only," she paused and looked at him apologetically, "ya think ya can handle leavin' no later than tomorrow night?" A part of her would have like to leave that night, but she did not feel like Jarrod could stand having to leave that soon.

Jarrod smiled slightly. He agreed with her. He didn't like the idea of leaving at the moment, but he wasn't going to argue either, not with the knowledge that those men, or ones like them, could show up again. "I can handle it." He would have to. After all, if she was going to continue standing by him, Jarrod figured he best just not argue. The rest of the day the two spent talking and getting to know each other…even sharing a few laughs as they swapped stories back and forth.

_**A/N**_

_***This is reference to the character Julie Saxton in the episode "They call her Delilah". Though, I'm not even sure she'll actually appear in this story. All I know for sure is there is no romance between the two.**_


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen **

Even though Georgia had wanted Jarrod to lie down in the back of the wagon, he'd refused and was now sitting on the buckboard next to her. He had a heavy coat on as well as a heavy blanket wrapped around him. Georgia feared that, with him still being rather weak, he would contract pneumonia again and insisted that he use still the blanket. Jarrod wished they had more light, as they drove down the road. He knew that until they had found another place to hide he would not rest easy. After all, men like the ones Georgia had dealt with didn't care about the time of day they traveled. "I don't know that I'll ever be able to thank you enough. You're something special." Jarrod said as he ducked a branch of a tree that was hanging over the road.

After letting the few people she'd had to deal with believe Jarrod was her husband, and having told the lies she had, Georgia found herself fighting to keep tears from falling. She didn't feel special. "Jarrod, ya think the good Lord will condemn me for all the lies I've told, to those men and the soldiers... and fer acceptin' that food from men who ride with a group associated with the Missouri Raiders under false pretences?" She turned her head slightly and looked at him.

The guilty look that was in her eyes cut deep into Jarrod's heart… worse than any sharpened knife could have ever done. He felt his heart go out to the young woman sitting next to him. She'd been through so much in the process of helping him; she didn't need to take on that guilt on top of everything else. He laid his hand up her lower arm, being careful not to knock the reins in her hands to one side or the other. "You've done what you had to do to keep me alive and safe." He slid his hand out from under the blanket and laid it on her arm. "I can't see the Lord condemning you for that. I sure don't. If anything, I'm eternally in your debt." He smiled as he spoke.

Jarrod's smile reached out and touched Georgia's cheek, causing her to turn her eyes back to the road in front of her. A part of her wanted to ask if he had to smile like that, the other part told her to keep her mouth shut as it would only be seen as flirting with him. Not that the idea wasn't appealing, only she wasn't a woman with loose morals and wasn't about to do anything to gain anything even close to the reputation a woman like that would have.

A cold blast of wind blew through the air, and the horses started to show signs of slowing down. That part didn't surprise Jarrod, as they had actually traveled quite a ways. What worried him was the fact that he could see no shelter, and it was starting to get light. Just as he was sure they would be stuck out in the middle of nowhere, in the winter, with no shelter, they saw a home off in the distance. The fact that there was smoke rising from the chimney was clear evidence the home was in use. Still, with the forest area slowly disappearing around them, both Georgia and Jarrod knew they had to take a chance. "Please, let me do the talkin'." Georgia pleaded as she turned the wagon towards the home. "At least until we find out who were dealin' with."

Jarrod hated the fact that Georgia once again had to bear the brunt of their situation; at least, he felt she was. Still, after all Georgia had done to keep him alive, Jarrod felt it would be pure ingratitude not to grant her the request. "All right," he answered. "Only," he said as he again laid his hand over hers, "if things take a turn for the worse, I'm stepping in. I don't care how weak I still am."

Georgia smiled and agreed, praying there would be no need for him to do such a thing.

** ~oOo~ **

Mrs. Eric Cannon was inside the kitchen of the two bedroom home she and her husband shared, when she looked through the window and saw the couple approaching. To say she was shocked beyond measure would have been an understatement of the year. She and Mr. Cannon seldom saw any visitors since the war had broken out and she didn't know what to think.

"Dear!" She called over her shoulder to her husband who was sitting in the front room whittling on a piece of wood. "Looks like we've got company!"

Mr. Cannon quickly put the wood he was working on down, stood up, grabbed his coat and stepped out onto the porch of his home, after slipping a pistol into a pocket that was sewn into the inside of his coat. With the war going on, he never stepped outside without it. His wife was not far behind him.

"May I help ya?" Mr. Cannon asked Georgia once she stopped the wagon, although he was looking at Jarrod, who still looked like he was death warmed over, as he spoke.

"Ya'll excuse ma' husband, but he's been sick and isn't talkin' much. It's affected his throat and he can't catch his breath with this cold spell." When the couple before her looked surprised and took a step back, Georgia quickly added, "He's over what ailed him, but I guess we left home too soon. I was," she hesitated and then continued, "I was hopin' we could take shelter under yer roof fer at least a little while, until he's a bit more rested up."

Eric Cannon looked at his wife, Caroline. While his mouth did not move, his eyes asked her what she thought. The silver-haired woman didn't say anything for a moment. Finally the older woman spoke up, "If ma' husband won't argue, the two of ya can use our spare bedroom. It's been empty fer awhile." She saw no reason to say why it was empty, as anyone with half a brain could figure it out.

"Come on, young feller," Mr. Cannon stepped off the porch and helped Jarrod, who was grateful for the support, down from the wagon. Soon Mr. Cannon and Georgia were helping Jarrod into the full sized bed, while Mrs. Cannon started fixing some soup for their weary and cold guests.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

Georgia stood by the bedroom window looking at the stars that were poking their heads through the darkened sky. Jarrod lay in the comfortable bed the Cannons had provided with his eyes closed. Georgia assumed he was asleep, but she was wide awake. Since the Cannons thought she and Jarrod were married, and she dared not tell them different, there was only place to sleep…and she was not comfortable with that idea. So, she stood by the window trying to decide what to do about it.

"I won't bite." Jarrod, who knew her dilemma, shocked her when he opened his eyes and smiled at her.

"I never thought ya would." Georgia couldn't help but grin as she made the reply, but then grew serious. "Just debatin' on what ta do is all."

Knowing what she was thinking, Jarrod did some thinking of his own. It wasn't long before he pulled the blanket down, but left the top sheet up. "Here," he patted the sheet that lay over him and on the bed. "You can lie on top of the sheet, but underneath the blanket. I promise I'll keep my hands to myself." He meant it too. She'd gone far above and beyond the call when it came to helping him. He'd grown quite fond of her and would have nothing to do with harming her.

Georgia still didn't like it, only what choice did she have? It's not like she could sleep on the floor again. After all, if she did that, and one of the Cannons knocked on the door, she'd have to jump into the bed. Some might sure she was ruining her reputation only, as far as she was concerned, she figured her reputation was pretty well shot unless she moved to a whole new state and started over. Slowly, she turned away from the window, climbed into the bed and lay down on the sheet. Soon she had the blanket over her and Jarrod had rolled onto his side, in order to avoid touching her and giving her the wrong idea.

"Jarrod," she turned and looked at Jarrod's back which was covered with the night shirt that Mr. Cannon had lent him…even if it was too large on him.

"What?" He asked as he rolled onto his back and turned his head towards her.

"I had hoped ta be closer to Illinois by now. With this winter weather hittin' like it is," Georgia said as she sat up and looked towards the window. It was getting dark, but she could still see the snow falling; it had started just after supper. They'd had a couple of storms since they left on their journey, but none had been bad enough to do much in the way of hampering their journey. On the other hand, this one seem to be doing just that…that is, dumping enough to mess with their plans something fierce. "We just might find it necessary ta ask the Cannons if we can stay for the winter. I mean, neither one of us know the area well enough ta be travlin' durin' the winter and hopin' we can continue to find shelter and food when we need it. I don't like it, but…" The fact that she feared what might happen could easily be seen in her fearful eyes as her voice trailed off.

Jarrod didn't say anything at first. He then thought on the fact that at least he had a family waiting to welcome him with open arm if he could just get out of this unfamiliar territory alive. On the other hand, Georgia was now alone in the world. He thought on the older couple who, from the pictures on the wall, must have a son out there somewhere. Jarrod reached up and gently touched the lower part of her arm. "Everything will be all right. No matter what, things will work out. I'll see to it, I promise."

Georgia turned her head and looked down at Jarrod. The corners of her mouth turned slight upwards in a small mile. What was there about this man that seemed to reach out and wrap itself around her…just like one of mother's large handmade quilts. "I'll hold ya to that."

"You'd better." Jarrod lowered his arm and again turned his back to her. It wasn't long before he was out like a light. Georgia laid down, pulled the cover up and over her, but sleep still eluded her for quite some time. It might have been otherwise, but a thousand questions, and her mother's comment about the heart, ran through Georgia's mind. All of which made it impossible to relax enough to allow sleep overcome her.

**~oOo~**

"Which side do ya think they're runnin' from?" Mrs. Cannon looked up at her husband of twenty-eight years; he was sitting up in their bed as neither one of them could sleep either. They had been talking about the couple they had taken in and just how long they thought the couple should stay, among other things.

Eric shook his head, as he again thought on the young couple who had arrived at their home that morning. The young man who he'd heard the young woman call Jarrod, or Mr. Barkley, had slept on and off for most of the day while Georgia had spent the day either taking care of him or helping Mrs. Cannon around the house. Neither Eric or his wife were so blind, as not to quickly pick up on the fact that Georgia refused to go outside, choosing rather to stick as close to her husband as possible. "I don't know, but if I ever saw anyone running from something it's the Barkleys. Real question should be, do we keep them here or send them on their way?" He looked at his wife waiting for what he knew was coming. It was all he could do to keep as straight face while his wife exploded just like he knew she would.

Caroline Cannon sat straight up. Once she and her husband had taken someone in, they'd never turned around and pushed them right back out again. That is, not when they had such a good feeling around them, and this young couple had just that. One would have a cold heart in order not to be able to feel it. Besides all that, there was the young man's health to think about. "We're not sendin' them away!" She stated with more force than she intended. "With this kind of weather!" She shook her finger at their bedroom window and the snow that was coming down. "It will kill that young man if we do. Besides, even if it weren't snowin', his wife is right; he needs the rest! Besides, we so seldom get any company, I doubt it will be a problem keepin' them here." She then added, "I think we need ta invite them ta spend the winter with us. I mean, ya and I both know how scanty shelter is in this part of Missouri, and I don't believe they have anywhere ta go. At least, no place close enough ta risk travelin' in this kind of weather."

Eric couldn't hold it in any longer; he threw back his head and started laughing loud and long. It was an action that only served to confuse his wife.

"What on earth are ya laughin' at?" she folded her arms and glared at him the way she always did when she let his actions get under her skin.

"You!" Eric tapped her nose once he got a hold of himself and, keeping his laughter down to s sallow, soft chuckle. "Every time we've helped someone in the past you sit there and wonder 'what their story is'. However, every time I suggest we send them on their way…you come up with a reason that they need to stay. In this case, you're right though; I'll talk to Mr. Barkley later." He laid down still smiling wide, which only served to irritate his wife even more.

Caroline folded her arms and glared childishly at the back of her husband's head. "Men!" She lay back down and thought on the young man and young woman in the next room.

"Please, keep them safe." She asked no one in particular and fell asleep praying for the best for the young couple…and for an end to the war.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen **

Jarrod, who had spent a solid four days in the room the Cannons were allowing him and Georgia to use, made his way out of bed and into the living room. It was the first time since he'd been shot and fallen ill that he didn't feel like death warmed over. There was no one in the living room, which contained the barest of necessities, so he walked through it and into the kitchen which lay on the other side of the living room.

Georgia, who was sitting at the table cutting some potatoes, looked up from where she sat when she heard his footsteps. Instantly, a smile spread from one side of her face to the other as he walked through the archway that separated the two rooms. "It's good ta see ya up and about." She told him as she went back to cutting the potatoes. "And lookin' tons better than ya did."

"Feels good too," Jarrod smiled at her and then looked around. "Where's the Cannons?" He had expected to see the couple once he got up.

Maybe it was the stress that she'd been under for the past six weeks or maybe it was something else, only Georgia got a very serious look on her face and answered in just as serious voice, "Out on the battlefield or where ever the soldiers put them?" Though, she burst out laughing when Jarrod looked at her as if to say 'now that is dry'.

Jarrod shook his head and joined in her laughter. "You know I wasn't talking about those kinds of cannons!" He shook his finger and then tapped her nose, although his eyes sparkled as he continued chuckling.

"I know, but ya opened the door fer that one, and it's impolite fer a lady not ta walk through a door a gentleman is polite enough ta open fer her." She again laughed as Jarrod threw his hands up in mock surrender and then sat down at the table, offering to help her with the potatoes.

"So," Jarrod asked as he took some potatoes from Georgia, "where are our hosts, and have you talked to them yet? Did you tell them the truth?" They'd talked a lot over the past few days and both figured they'd have to be upfront with Mr. and Mrs. Cannon as it had snowed yet again the night before. There was no way they could travel in this weather, and they'd decided it was better if they were upfront about their situation if they were to accept the invitation extended to them by the couple.

"They're outside, and I tried. I started ta tell them the truth, but Mrs. Cannon stopped me. I got as far as ta say yer family was from out west." Georgia replied as she recounted the conversation she'd had with Caroline Cannon the day she, Georgia, and Jarrod had arrived at the Cannon home.

"_We knew yer were runnin' the moment ya drove up, or at least we felt the chances were high anyway." Mrs. Cannon said as she sat down on one side of the couch while Georgia sat on the other. Georgia had just tried to tell the woman who had taken them in exactly what was going on, but stopped when Mrs. Cannon raised her hand. "No one travels durin' this time of the year unless they have ta, and there's no reason to travel now except to escape one side or the other. However, the best thing ya can do fer yerself and yer husband is not say anythin' else. With me from South Caroline and ma' husband from Ohio, we haven't taken sides in this war, haven't wanted ta tear our own house apart. The less we know the better off we'll all be." She'd went on to say that if by chance they actually got more company that Jarrod should simply find his way back to the sick bed._

"I wish it didn't have ta be this way." Georgia laid down the knife she'd been using and leaned back. For the time since meeting her, Jarrod took time to look, really look, at Georgia. It saddened him to see just how stressed she was and know that the burden of standing by him had was a large part of it. No lady such as she should have to do such a thing, and she was a lady. Without half thinking, Jarrod stood up and held out his hand. This action only served to confuse Georgia…until Jarrod smiled and explained that it had been a long time since he'd danced with anyone and would she do him the pleasure of giving him the next dance.

Georgia couldn't help it; she started laughing again as she stood up and held out her hand. "We don't have any music. What are we doing to dance to?"

Jarrod's only answer was to take her hand, lead her into the living room and, wrapped his right arm around her waist and began to guide her over the floor in a slow waltz…while whistling a pleasant tune and keeping his eyes on hers.

A warm feeling started feeling the room as the couple danced to Jarrod's whistling. It was a feeling that Georgia more than gladly let soak in to every inch of her. It had seemed like forever since she'd been able to simply enjoy life and, truth be told, she'd found herself dreaming about doing this very thing; dancing with Jarrod on more than one occasion.

"Yer not a bad dancer." Georgia smiled, as Jarrod switched the tune he was whistling to a livelier tune and started to do move around in circles in the room a bit faster than before. Only when Jarrod felt his energy begin to plummet, did he stop.

"We overdid things." Georgia took a hold of Jarrod's arm as he leaned against the table looking just a tad bit pale.

"Maybe," Jarrod smiled and stood up straight once he'd caught his breath and full color once again appeared on his face, "but I'd say we needed to." He lifted his hand up and touched the side of her face with the palm of his right hand. It made Georgia blush and turn her head the other way only to find the palm of Jarrod's other hand on her other check and felt him turning her fact back towards him.

"Anyone ever tell you just how beautiful you are?" Jarrod asked once he was once again looking into her eyes.

Georgia swallowed hard, struggling to answer, but unable to as she was lost in the spell binding blue eyes in front of her. Jarrod didn't seem to notice the fact as he began closing the gap between them.

Jarrod's lips touching her own lips sent tremors down Georgia's back. He was a union officer, her family was fighting on the Confederate side, and she was only supposed to be helping him until he was over state lines not kissing him. Her head knew all this, but she kissed him back anyway. When the front door began to open, they let go of each other. She went back to cutting potatoes, and he sat on the couch…after Mrs. Cannon appeared and chastised him telling him to take it easy.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

Jarrod stepped away from the wood he'd been chopping as he thought on the conversation he'd had with Mr. Cannon the day before, or he should say; he tried to have. Like Mrs. Cannon, the moment Jarrod said his rank, Mr. Cannon had stopped him.

"_You need understand, Captain." Mr. Cannon interrupted the moment Jarrod had stated his rank. "As far as I am concerned it's easier to help you than most folks that have stumbled across our way simply because we don't know what side you're on. All we see is a couple needing help. Granted, your speech and your wife say you're from the west which means the north side most likely, but in a war like this... well that doesn't always guarantee anything. When it comes to my wife," the man chuckled, "I think she's addicted to making her own stories up and rather hates anyone ruining it for her." Mr. Cannon, who stood on the porch leaning against the outside wall, as he talked with Jarrod, shrugged his shoulders and asked. "Understand?"_

Jarrod could see where the man was coming from, so he had dropped the subject. Only now, thanks to the fact that they'd had Thanksgiving and Christmas was just around the corner, he had another matter on his mind…family. That meant not only his parents and siblings, but Georgia as well. What would happen to her after he made it back to soil no one could deny was Northern ground? Going back to her home would not be an option for her as she'd stated on more than once occasion. But, Jarrod couldn't simply walk away from her. Not only had she saved his life, he realized he had some real feelings for her. If he hadn't, he never would have kissed her the way he had. Of course, he struggled with that part just because he didn't know if it was simply gratitude that she'd go to such lengths to protect him, or if he really loved her for who she really was. Most of all, no matter what, there was still the matter of her reputation to deal with. When he heard the back door open and shut, Jarrod turned his head. He smiled as Georgia, who had put on her heavy coat, walked down the steps and over to where he stood.

"I think ya've got 'nough wood split for both the Northern and Southern armies. I'm sure the Cannons will appreciate it, especially Mr. Cannon." Georgia paused as she turned and looked toward the window. She could see Mrs. Cannon decorating the house. "It frees them up for other things." she finished quietly.

Jarrod sighed. His mind was on his family. It was only natural Georgia's would be with her family. "I'm sorry your holidays are being ruined because of me." He said, as he picked up axe back up with the intention of splitting more wood…even if they had plenty. It was something to do until winter was over and he could travel into Illinois without worrying if there'd be shelter to hide in.

Instead he found Georgia, who was appalled that Jarrod was blaming himself for her being away from her family, taking the ax out of his hand and leaning it up against the house. Taking Jarrod's now free hands in hers, Georgia held on tight as she set him straight. "Captain Jarrod Barkley,_ if_ anyone is ta blame fer ruinin' ma' holidays' it is _me_. _I _chose ta intervene and _I _chose ta stay with ya. Ya are _not_ ta blame yerself!" She then let go of his hands, took a few steps and bent over. Before Jarrod knew it, Georgia had made a snowball and was throwing it at him. "Besides," she yelled and laughed as the snowball hit him on the upper arm, "who says ma' holidays have been ruined?"

"Why you…" Jarrod started laughing, as he too rolled a snowball and threw it back at Georgia. Soon the two were chasing each other around in the snow until Jarrod caught up with Georgia and swung her around in a circle. Their laughter filled the air. When they stopped spinning, Jarrod and Georgia found themselves standing rather close to each other. Jarrod started to lean in to kiss her when they heard a gunshot off in the far distance. The attraction between them was instantly severed in two. In no time at all Jarrod and Georgia were standing inside the Cannon's home talking to Eric and Caroline.

"Probably just someone desperate for food out huntin', if it was more than that there'd be more gunfire. Too many hungry people now days," Caroline said sadly as they heard the sound of a gun going off again and her husband kept an eye on the window, just in case someone should appear.

Jarrod felt rather sick. The past month had been such a break from the war and, with the growing feelings between Georgia and himself, he had allowed thoughts of the day when the weather would permit him to find his way back to where he belonged, back to where he would rejoin the war, to be pushed to the farthest corner of his mind. Now, to hear the sound of a gun going off…even if it might just be someone who was out hunting…reminded Jarrod he wasn't where he should be, and wouldn't be until winter was over. He just did not know this area well enough to risk traveling in the winter. With his mind now on the war and the fact that he was alive when he could very well be dead, Jarrod turned around and disappeared into the room he and Georgia were using.

"He's feelin' guilty." Caroline said, as she saw the look of worry that appeared on Georgia's face while she watched Jarrod close the door behind him. "He's alive, but he knows many are not. He should be a part of it, but he isn't. Go ta him." She looked at Georgia and nodded towards the bedroom.

All of a sudden Georgia felt as if she was twenty years older than she really was. She just wanted to hide from the world. As it was, she simply nodded at Mrs. Cannon and disappeared into the bedroom.

**~oOo~**

"Ya wish ya were with yer unit or in Washington?" Georgia walked up beside Jarrod, who was standing by the window looking out. She wasn't surprised when he nodded.

"I should be one of those two places." Jarrod pounded his fists on the window sill. "And I would be, except for the fact that neither one of us knows this part of Missouri well enough to find shelter from this winter weather along the way." He pounded his fists down again, frustrated at feeling stuck.

"And ya will be," Georgia laid her hand over one of his fists feeling rather frustrated herself. With all the hunting and fishing she'd done with her family, why did all the trips have to be in the opposite direction that they'd had to travel in? "The first chance we get…" her voice trailed off wishing she knew exactly what she should say to make things easier on him.

The moment Jarrod felt Georgia's hand on his he turned away from the window and looked into her eyes. He felt a mixture of emotions fill him as he saw the love and concern her eyes held. Once again he found himself wondering what would become of her once he was back in the war. As he thought on it, Jarrod realized when that time came he would be unable to do his job unless he knew where she was and that she was okay… not only because of what she'd done for him, but because he recognized that he had indeed fallen in love with his friendly foe.

He lifted his free hand up and rested it against her cheek. "You're something else." Jarrod said, as he moved his other hand up to her face. He might have started kissing her again only he heard Mr. Cannon calling his name.


	20. Chapter 20

**Friendly Foe **

**Chapter Twenty**

When Victoria walked into the room, Nick (who had been granted a temporary furlough) was helping Audra and Eugene decorate the Christmas tree while Tom was taking more decorations out of a box. One look into her eyes and Tom, along with Nick, could see the bittersweet look. If either one of them could have erased the pain in her heart they would have done it in a split second…as it was, like Victoria, they held onto the hope that Jarrod was 'out there somewhere, alive, and would return to them soon.

Nick set down the decorations that were in his hands and walked over to his mother and gave her a hug. "It's good to be home for awhile, mother."

Victoria returned his heartfelt embrace and smiled, grateful that he too was not lost. "It's good to have you home. Now," she said as she let go and smiled even wider for the sake of her younger children, "Why don't you help your brother and sister finish decorating. I don't want our guests tonight to see a partially bare tree, and I'd like to talk to your father." Nick and Tom both frowned at the same time, but neither said a word, as Nick turned back to his siblings and began helping with the tree while Tom followed his wife out of the living room.

Once they were in the study, Tom shut the door and asked, "What's wrong, Victoria?"_ 'Please, whatever it is, don't let it be bad news about Jarrod.' _He thought only to himself, not wanting to make any sort of assumptions out loud.

"Nothing really, it's just…" she walked over to the window and looked at the rain that was falling from the dark clouds that had gathered that morning. The storm outside felt like the one that was going on inside of her. "It's just that," she said as she turned back to her husband, "you told me Nick got the furlough home because your friend in Sacramento knew someone in Washington and..." she hesitated knowing how Nick felt about serving in the military. However, the fear of having him too going missing or worse yet killed propelled her to continue, "He's been in the war from the beginning, Tom. Don't you know someone who could convince the military to let him come home for good?"

Tom sighed; feeling the internal struggle start. While Victoria had never been one to condone someone starting something only to pull out and quit, this wasn't just anyone and not just anything. He wanted to tell her that, yes; he did know someone and that Nick would be home to stay in no time at all. However, he didn't. How could he? Nick may have admitted to Tom that he had nightmares from the things he'd seen already, but Tom also knew how Nick felt about doing what he saw as his duty. That was one thing his hot tempered son had made crystal clear. Tom knew how his son would react if he was pulled out and then found out that it was because he, Tom, had stepped in and intervened.

"I can't do that Victoria, and we both know it." He took her in his arms and pulled her close. "Though, believe me when I say I wish with every fiber in me that I could. Let's just be grateful he's here, with us during Christmas and," he whispered softly, "pray that Jarrod will be with us next year."

Victoria said nothing as she held onto her husband tightly and let her tears fall. _'Oh Jarrod, where are you?'_ was a cry she kept to herself. Tom was right; she would enjoy the time with Nick and pray for Jarrod.

**~oOo~**

Jarrod and Georgia had spent the first few hours of Christmas morning sitting on the couch in the Cannon's living room as they and the Cannons exchanged what meager gifts they had been able to come up with in spite of the circumstances around them. Jarrod had managed to fix a necklace that Mr. Cannon had shown him and told him that Mr. Cannon had found it on the road one day. "I can't fix things like this, but I couldn't throw it away either," had been the man's exact words. So, after Jarrod had fixed it, they had presented it to Caroline, who was more than overjoyed to have it. Mr. Cannon had made everyone new hats and shawls while Georgia had, with Mrs. Cannon's help, put bits and parts of various cloths and made new blankets for everyone. Afterwards, Georgia had asked Jarrod to follow her back to their bedroom. Curious, Jarrod did as she asked.

"I know how much yer missin' yer family." Georgia said as she knelt before a cedar chest that sat against one of the bedrooms while Jarrod stood next to the bed. "Well, durin' the times Mr. Cannon has taken ya out ta check traps with him, Mrs. Cannon was helpin' me with this." She pulled out a folded quilt, stood up and handed it to Jarrod.

Jarrod unfolded the full sized quilt and felt his heart skip a beat and a lump formed in his throat. The front of the quilt had a huge brown "B" in the middle of it with six small letters surrounding it. He didn't need to be told what those letters, a "T", "V", "J", "N", "A" and "E", stood for. "Ya've said more than once yer supposed ta be workin' out of Washington and wish ya would have a way ta remember yer family." Georgia said in a rather nervous voice, afraid she'd gone too far with the gift.

"You forgot a letter." Jarrod looked up and gazed upon Georgia with a look she was not quite sure how to read.

Georgia went through the names of the family members he'd given her and, finding no one missing, asked, "Who did I forget?"

Jarrod set the blanket down upon the bed and closed the space between them. "You," he placed his hands upon her shoulders, "Be my wife. When winter's over, and we get into Illinois; let me put you on a train to California. You can live with my family until this war is over."

Georgia's eyes widened and it felt as if her jaw fell to the floor. She went to ask him what he was thinking, only to find herself asking an entirely different question. "W…who would marry us? We can't risk goin' back ta any town; ya'd be killed by the first Confederate soldier that saw ya. That is, if any are around. I can almost guarantee that. It's at least fifty miles ta the Illinois border, and who knows how close the nearest preacher is after that."

Jarrod wrapped his arms around shoulders and pulled her to him. "I might wish things were different, you might too only there is such a thing as a common law marriage." He wasn't surprised when shock registered on her face and he quickly added, "Say yes, and I promise the first chance we get we'll have a man of the cloth marry us, too. Only, for now, our marriage date is, if you'll have me, December twenty-fifth, eighteen sixty-three. Please, everyone thinks we're married anyway and I love you. Be my wife."

Georgia felt her heart pounding as she thought on Jarrod's proposal. She couldn't deny she'd fallen in love with him only a part of her still held onto the hope of being reconciled with her father and her living brothers someday. If she married Jarrod, a union officer, that day would never come. She just knew it. "I…" she rested her head against Jarrod's chest and sighed, "Jarrod, as much as I would love ta say yes, as much as I'd love ta claim Christmas as ma' weddin' day, I…I can't give ya an answer right now. I need time ta think."

Jarrod closed his eyes, his heart aching for both of them as he held her even closer. As much as he wanted an answer, he understood all too well where she was coming from. "Take all the time you need." He answered as he kissed the top of her forehead. "We have another couple of months before we can leave." Nothing more was said as they simply stood and held each other for a solid ten minutes.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty-One**

Jarrod, who was once again outside chopping wood, stopped and leaned against the handle of the axe. His mind was once again on the fact that he should be with his unit or in Washington. He thought on the map that Georgia had with her and sighed. He'd looked at it time and time again only problem was…it was no longer a complete map due to unintentional water damage that was done while he was ill. To try to use it to get to Illinois would be fruitless and only wind up putting him and Georgia who knows where. Just as he was about to go back to chopping wood he heard footsteps. Turning around he Jarrod found his heart jumping…a confederate soldier was standing not forty feet away, and he was holding a rifle in his hands, though it was pointed down towards the ground.

When Jarrod did not speak, the confederate soldier did. His accent was even more pronounced than Georgia's was. "I'm sorry, Sir. Ah did not mean to surprise ya. Ah…" the man looked rather uneasy as he paused and then said, "Ah got separated from mah unit. I was hopin', maybe ya had seen them."

Jarrod frowned ever so slightly. There was something about the way the man that didn't feel right, and it wasn't just the fact that he was on the South's side. Jarrod had never bothered to work on his accent as fate had always made it so he didn't have to. Now, with the strongest impression this man couldn't find out he was from the north, Jarrod started to answer in the best southern accent he could muster when Georgia appeared on the back porch. Unbeknownst to him, Georgia had not only seen the soldier approaching and opened the kitchen window just enough as to enable her to hear any words that were spoken. The moment the confederate soldier spoke, she knew she'd been right when she thought she recognized him.

"Paul Miser! Ya son of a gun, what are ya doin' 'round these parts? I thought yer unit was sent ta Kentucky!" Georgia hurried down the steps and conveniently put herself between Jarrod and Mr. Miser, an action that did not pass Jarrod by.

"Georgia? Georgia Marshall? kin't believe yer daddy let ya out of his sight!" Paul looked at Jarrod and then back at Georgia and made the only conclusion he could think of. "So, how did ya get yer daddy to let ya marry?"

Georgia might have told Paul the truth, only she knew him all too well. His hatred of anyone who fought for the north was as strong, if not stronger than her father's. If he found out who Jarrod really was, he would kill him without a second thought. "Have ya forgotten? I'm not a child anymore. Now, what are ya doin' here?"

"Mah unit is bein' sent to Saint Lois." He replied and then gave a frustrated chuckle, "but Ah got separated from them. Have ya seen them?"

"No one's been by here for a couple of months. Sorry," Georgia repeated what the Cannons had told her and did her best not to show how uncomfortable she was. It was bad enough that Paul was standing in the yard, but when the Cannons came out…would they unintentionally give the man ammo to use against Jarrod? Before Paul or she could say another word, she had her answer as Mr. Cannon stepped out of the house.

Mr. Cannon, wearing the widest grin he'd ever had on, walked down the steps and over to where Paul Miser stood. Holding out his hand, Mr. Cannon introduced himself. He then shocked Georgia and Jarrod as he turned and bellowed, "What do you think you're doing out of bed young man? How do you ever expect to get your voice and health completely back?" He then looked at Georgia that screamed 'if you want him alive, go along with me'. "Get that husband of yours back in bed now!"

"Yes, sir!" Georgia whirled around and, taking Jarrod by the hand, disappeared into the house leaving Mr. Cannon to deal with Mr. Miser.

**~oOo~**

"What?" Jarrod stared at Mr. Cannon sat on a chair in the bedroom he and Georgia were using.

"You heard me. Look, I knew the two of you was running only I figured it was just the war you were avoiding', and that was none of ma' business." Mr. Cannon let out a long drawn out sigh and looked at Jarrod and Georgia. "However, sorry to say it only had I known you were running from Buck Marshall as well, I don't think I'd have taken the two of you in. I dare say if it was any other time of the year he'd have been out this way by now…I don't care how many miles you've come."

Jarrod didn't have to ask what else the man was thinking. "That soldier, she knows him and he knows her. He'll make it a point to say something to her father."

"I dare say so. He left just before I came in here. I doubt he'll go to the place I told him I thought he'd find his unit. I bet you he is heading right for her father's home as we speak." Mr. Cannon stood up and looked out the window bracing himself for what his guests next reaction would be when they heard what he had to say next. "Buck Marshall might not have enough influence to turn everyone's head, but he is famous for miles around, on account of his orneriness and temper when he feels crossed. I'm willing to still help you to a point. I know another place ya can hide. I'll give you provisions that will last you for a month and I know of wood you can use, probably last you a month. That is, if you ration yourselves to one meal a day and use the wood sparingly, you should be okay for a month…until the weather will permit you to travel. I just can't have ya stay here any longer. It's not what Mr. Marshall might do to me that scares me." He said as he glanced towards the closed door. "It's what he might have someone might do ta my wife. I won't have her hurt. We have a solid six hours still of daylight left. If you want the help I offered, say so. No matter what though, I want you gone by the morning." The moment Mr. Cannon shut the door behind him Jarrod turned to Georgia, his heart full of fear for her safety.

"Georgia," He took a step towards Georgia who was now sitting on the edge of the bed. As much as he loved her Jarrod couldn't stomach the idea of anything happening to her because of him. "If I leave here by myself, would your father really hurt you for helping me?"

Georgia let out a soft, somewhat disgusted laugh as she shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know, doesn't really matter though." She said as she stood up and looked at Jarrod. The moment she'd seen Paul Miser in the yard she'd known what decision she would be facing. It had been at that moment that she realized she wanted two things, but couldn't have both. And, as much as she might want to reconcile things with her father, she couldn't turn her back on Jarrod Barkley. She was far too in love with him to do such a thing. "Do ya still want me as yer wife? February first, eighteen sixty four isn't a bad day for a marriage."

Jarrod took her face in his hands and looked into her eyes. "Yes, I still want to marry you." He then sighed and added, "The next month won't be easy and, if your father is able to discover where we've gone…" Jarrod's words trailed off as he thought on what the man might do.

"The next month will be nothin' compared to what we've been through already." She gave a half hearted chuckle and added, "There's not a very high chance he'll follow. Ya never talked. Paul Miser will assume yer on the south's side. If anythin', he'll put two and two together, come up with an elopement and turning'ma' back on ma' family by runnin' before he got here. Also the Cannons have never let ya tell them fer sure what side yer on. So, if anythin', he'll turn around and make sure everyone around us knows I've been disowned. Let's just be glad it should be good enough weather to travel come March. Just promise me that the very first chance we get, we'll make it more than a common law marriage." She'd always dreamed of a beautiful church wedding and in no wise did she want to give that dream up.

. If Jarrod could have, he'd have turned the word 'war' into a tangible object and beat the living daylights out of it…as he felt the same way she did. As it was all he could do was reassure her he'd do as she asked. "I promise. Now we best hurry." Jarrod tilted her head up and kissed her, "The longer we stay here, the less time we have to get ourselves hidden." Georgia didn't argue as they threw their few belongings together and told Mr. Cannon they'd take his help.

The rest of the day was full of packing provisions in the back of one wagon while Mr. Cannon showed them his trapping maps and explained where he'd take them and why he could promise them a month's supply of wood.


	22. Chapter 22

**Friendly Foe **

**Author's Note: Three things are required for a Common Law Marriage to be established. 1. Agree you are married from that day on…Jarrod and Georgia did that in the last chapter. 2. Cohabitate…they are and 3. Present yourself as man and wife to the public….they have.**

**Due to some communication I have had with a reader, I not only included the above notes…I have done some further research. While that the above IS all that's need to establish a common law marriage, when it comes to COURT MATTERS…there is a time period affixed. Ex…Florida's is seven years. So, basically, if a couple separated (or one party died) before that time had passed, they'd get nothing from the courts….only the acknowledgement they'd entered into a Common Law marriage WITH NO LEGAL BENEFITS. **

**I'm not saying my research is 100% accurate. I'm sure someone wishing to learn more about Common Law Marriage could find out tons more than I have. Only, since this is fan fiction, I'm not concerned with in depth study of 18th century laws (which have changed I'm sure) concerning Common Law marriage.**

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

Jarrod stood by the window of the "cabin" Mr. Cannon had led him and Georgia to, watching more snow fall; a good thing as it meant any tracks, left by the wagons they'd used to drive up to the place they were now calling home, were being covered up. In his opinion, the "cabin" should have been referred to as a shack. The stove, fireplace, living room and bedroom were a "one in all" deal. Though, thank goodness, there was an actual bed instead of a small cot as he'd often seen in places like this.

In his hand Jarrod held the hand drawn map Mr. Cannon had given him, the man's words rang in his ears. _"You don't have to believe me if you don't want only, if I'm right and Buck Marshall is gonna be told about his daughter, there won't be a road ya'll be safe on for at least two weeks or more. He'll have anyone available looking for her, don't matter if she's of age. Since you won't be able to travel for another month anyway, what with the storms that keep hitting us, stay here and then, when springs comes, stick to the map I went ahead and made up for you. It will lead you to the Mississippi River and then into Illinois while keeping you off the main roads.'_

Jarrod sighed. The soldier in him had told him more than once that the weather didn't matter and to go ahead and start for Illinois on foot if needs be. The other part reminded him that, even if Georgia had refused his proposal and stayed behind and he was alone, it would be suicide to go out in this weather not knowing exactly where to find shelter and food. As he thought on Georgia, he turned around and walked quietly over to the bed where she lay sleeping. Reaching down, he gently brushed her hair to one side, causing her to murmur in her sleep though she did not wake. As he continued gazing upon the woman he now called his wife, his mind replayed the past few hours for him.

_Georgia sat in front of the fireplace staring at the flames dancing up and down. Jarrod, who stood off to her right, could see the look of someone who was both happy and sad at the same time. He sighed and walked over to her and knelt down, wrapping his arm around her as he did so. "You're one very strong lady. I don't know what I did to get so lucky only I'm glad you're the one who found me, and that you agree to be my wife."_

_ Georgia turned her head and gave him a small smile. "I'm the lucky one only," she laid her head on his shoulder. I know this is going to sound stupid, since we legally have a common law marriage only…" she paused struggling to find the right words. _

_ Jarrod didn't ask what the problem was; he figured he knew. "You don't feel married because we didn't exchange any vows. Is that it?" He put his hand on her chin and tilted her head up._

_ It amazed Georgia how her husband had been able to see the problem right off the bat. She sighed and nodded slightly. _

_Jarrod stood up and helped Georgia do the same. He clasped her hands in each of his and asked, "Would it help if we exchanged our own vows, here and now?" _

_ The loving way his blue eyes looked at her made Georgia's heart skip a beat. She'd never thought of asking for private vows to be exchanged only she felt her heart soaring at the suggestion. "If you don't mind," she replied after a few moments of silence._

_ Jarrod started smiling wide and said, "Georgia Marshall, I, Jarrod Barkley, do take you for my wife. I will love, honor and cherish you always. I will also be faithful and cleave to none else for as long as we both shall live." Jarrod's never left her eyes as he spoke._

_ Georgia was beaming as she slowly repeated similar vows and then trembled slightly as Jarrod started kissing her while he laid her down upon the floor in front of the fireplace._

"I never thought you'd give up everything you knew to help me." He whispered as he felt his heart swell inside of him. "Nor did I dream we'd ever fall in love with each other and have any kind of marriage." He again looked around the one room shack and swore up and down that after they got out of Missouri, the first thing chance he got he'd put his wife on train to his parents and then, after the war, he'd make sure she had more than a shack to live in. His thoughts were interrupted when Georgia stirred again, only this time she opened her eyes.

"How long have ya been up?" She asked, reaching up and taking a hold of his hand.

"A little while, it's snowing again," Jarrod answered as he pointed towards the window.

Georgia sat up and smiled, "Ya want ta go out and have a snowball fight?" She asked.

Jarrod might have answered in the affirmative only, as she'd sat up, Jarrod saw into her open nightshirt and saw the teasing look in his wife's eyes. Ignoring the snow outside, Jarrod crawled back into bed, pulled her to him and said he'd prefer a wrestling match over a snowball fight at the moment.

Georgia laughed…and gave him his wrestling match.

**~oOo~**

"What do ya mean, they left! Why didn't ya keep them here! For that matter, why did ya help them in the first place!" Mr. Marshall, who had indeed received a visit from Paul Miser, bellowed and dismounted from his horse. The men who had ridden with him remained in their saddles. They knew his temper all too well and had no wish to be in the middle of anything that might erupt.

Eric Cannon stood on his porch with his rifle in his hands. He'd experienced enough in life to know that he wasn't going to attempt to talk to a man in Mr. Marshall's mood without some way to defend himself and his wife if needs be. "I told you before!" Mr. Cannon barked, "As far as I knew they were just a couple that needed a place to stay while he got his health back! I had no idea she was your daughter!" He took another deep breath and added, "As far as keeping them here goes," he paused and shook his head, knowing that the only way to get the man away from the house was to lie. He hated it only he wanted the man off his land. "They were gone by the time I got back from showing Mr. Miser the road I thought might lead to his unit. Since it was starting to snow, I wasn't about to go after them and ask them why they had up and left before spring."

Buck Marshall let out a few choice words as began walking towards the barn. "I'm lookin' around anyways!" He continued growling. It was bad enough his daughter had up and disappeared, but to learn that she had run away and got married before she was of age…that infuriated him more than ever. And, with Paul's visit, he'd also been forced to admit that, maybe, just maybe, the woman the first Confederate officer had told him about and his daughter were one in the same. If that was the case, he was also wondering if the union officer and his daughter's husband; he couldn't bring himself to say son in law, were also one and the same. No, the more he thought on it, the less he could accept she'd go that far. This being the case, by the time he finished searching the barn and the house, after Mr. Cannon sarcastically told him he'd better check both buildings, he did exactly what Georgia said he would.

"If she can turn her back on family and run off like this," Buck mounted his horse and looked at the men with him, "She's no daughter of mine! Let's get back home. Our Southern boys need help, and I aim ta give it ta them!" He then turned his horse away from the Cannon farm and rode away as fast as his horse would carry him in the snow laded ground.

"Do you think he'll really give up lookin'?" Mrs. Cannon stepped out onto the porch and watched as the riders disappeared. Right or wrong, she did not like Mr. Marshall. He had such a bad light about him.

"For those youngin's sake, I hope so." Mr. Cannon turned around and disappeared back into the house. He had better things to do that stand out in the cold and get sick. For her part, Mrs. Cannon remained standing on the porch for a few more minutes before she joined her husband.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

A/N This was supposed to be strictly a Jarrod story...somehow Nick slipped back in.

0000000

Nick stood in his commander's tent, pure shock running through him. "I'm what?" He couldn't believe his ears.

"You heard me." Nick's new commander stood up and handed some papers to Nick. "The prisoners are to be taken to *****the Rock Island Prison in Illinois. "There have been other men assigned to help you transport the Confederate soldiers." He then paused as he sat back down. After a few moments, he looked at Nick and sighed. "General Alderson told me you once asked him if he'd ever had feelings about family members. While he can't say he has had any such experiences, I can tell you I've had such experiences with the men underneath my command. Lieutenant, I prefer to keep you here with me as I need you here. However, I have been plagued for the past twenty-four hours with the feeling you are needed elsewhere. When these orders came up, I presumed Illinois is where you are supposed to be. I do not know why, nor do I have time to investigate the matter. However, if you want, I have the authority to send someone else."

Nick was shocked to hear his commander's words for one main reason… he'd had dreams where Jarrod was calling out to him, begging him to please hurry, and showing him a map that Nick was sure was in, or extremely close, to Illinois. It was hard not to think that as, in the dream, Jarrod was telling him, 'I'm in the area and I need your help'. Of course, unwilling to desert he had been left to be tortured by the thought that Jarrod might actually need his help and he, Nick, could not give it. Only when his commander spoke again did Nick take his eyes off the orders now in his hands. "No, sir, I will go with the others and take the prisoners to Illinois." He then asked to be excused. When he was told he could do what he wanted, Nick headed towards the area the twenty prisoners were being kept.

000000

Nick stepped inside a huge tent and was appalled to hear one of the Union soldiers railing against one of the prisoners, who lay on a cot. "He'll never make it to Illinois! I don't know why the Commander is even sending him. Maybe," the man began raising his rifle as he said, "I'll just put him out of his…" He never finished his sentence as he found Nick knocking the rifle out of his hands and pushing him up against one of the tent poles.

"HOW DARE YOU THREATEN A MAN'S LIFE WHO CANNOT DEFEND HIMSELF!" Nick's bellow could be heard throughout the tent, some who were standing outside the tent could hear him as well. Nick, who had the names of the men who had been assigned to help him…due to the fact they were included in the orders he'd just been given…barked. "WHAT'S YOUR NAME SOLDIER?"

The young man who looked as if he wanted to crawl underneath the closet rock answered rather timidly, "Sergeant Hank Peterson, Sir."

Nick growled. The man's name was among the list of men who were supposed to go with him. Nick swore right then and there he was going to do something about that one. It was bad enough men were dying right and left in this horrible conflict between the north and the south; he didn't need a man under him so willing to kill someone when they were as bad off as the young Confederate soldier was. "Take your rifle and get out of here, now!" He practically threw the sergeant down on the ground and watched the man as he scrambled to feet, grabbed his rifle and ran out the open flaps of the tent. Nick then turned his attention to the enemy soldier.

"What's your name?" He asked as he looked down upon the dark haired prisoner.

"Private Zebulon Marshall, Sir." The Confederate soldier never took his eyes off Nick as he pulled up a chair and sat down. Nick liked that, the fact that the young man wasn't afraid to look a man who he considered his enemy in the eye.

"Mind if I ask how old you are and where you're from?" Nick asked wondering why he was even bothering asking such questions. It's not like he'd ever see the man once he was put in the prison, if he even made it that far.

"Twenty-two, Sir, ma' family lives just outside of Kirksville, Missouri." The man answered tilting his chin slightly upwards in spite of how bad he felt. The action told Nick the a lot when it came to how the man felt about his family.

Nick sighed. Kirksville, Missouri was in the northeast corner of Missouri while the Rock Island Prison was in the northwest part of Illinois. He couldn't help but wonder just how far apart the two places were. Of course, he didn't know and he wasn't about to ask the soldier. Nick took a deep breath and told the man what he, Nick, and other Union soldiers had been ordered to do. "I want to apologize beforehand." Nick shook his head as he looked upon the man he was sure would be dead within a short amount of time. "I don't think they should transport you."

Private Marshall gave a half amused chuckle and closed his eyes. "They won't. I'm not leavin' this camp alive. Doesn't really bother me jist," the man gave out a small sigh and continued, "Jist promise me, when this war is over look up ma' sister, name's Georgia Marshall. She's a good woman, like our mama was. Always was there fer me and the family. War's been hard on her, as she hates any livin' thing bein' hurt, don't matter where they live or who they are. Tell her I died happy and content if ya can. Only one of ma' family that's left that I really ever got along with well. Used to do so much togeth…" his voice trailed off as he lost consciousness. After Nick felt the young man's pulse and found it beating slower than it should be, he let out a long, drawn out sigh and stood up. Yep, too many men dying from one thing to another in this blasted war.

"Well," He talked low and to no one but a soldier who could no longer hear him, "I don't know if I'll survive this war myself only, if I do, I'll look her up for you as long as I can do it without getting my head shot off." Nick promised as he turned and walked away.

**A/N * The Union had a prison called Rock Island Prison where they housed Confederate prisoners.**


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty Four

Georgia stood near the table and looked at her husband, as he sat on a chair in front of the fireplace and stared into the burning fire. He looked as if he was a hundred miles away, probably was in his mind. She didn't have to ask him what was bothering him as they'd already talked about it a dozen times or more. She couldn't help it; she let out a soft, frustrated sigh. It wasn't Jarrod's fault he'd been wounded. It wasn't his or her fault that, in order to save his life, they'd had to go on the run and into hiding. It also wasn't his fault that, even though he was well, that fate had prevented him from returning to either his unit or Washington the last few months. If only she knew what to say or do to convince him to let go of the guilt he insisted on carrying around. As she thought on the matter some more, Georgia startled a little as she saw herself standing next to her mother's death bed and heard the woman's dying words.

"_Come here child." Mrs. Marshall raised her hand and held it out to her youngest daughter, the only one still living at home and in Missouri. Fifteen and a half year old Georgia stepped closer to her mother and took her mother's hands in hers, fighting to keep back her tears. As she held on tight, the dying woman continued to talk. "I want ya ta know how much ya mean ta me and," Mrs. Marshall sighed, "in spite of what yer daddy hopes, there is war a comin'. Don't like it none, but it's true. Don't let it change ya, promise me that. Don't go blamin' yerself when things happen that are out of yer control. Don't let the hate git ta ya."_

'Don't go blamin' yerself'. Georgia sighed again as she realized that, to a degree, she was just as guilty of Jarrod when it came to trying to take blame that wasn't hers to have. Sure, she made the choice to help him even at the cost of everything she had; still, the war wasn't her fault, she hadn't been the one to shoot him and she was doing all she could to get him back to where he belonged. She wasn't to blame that he wasn't with the rest of the soldiers, was away from his family. Slowly she made her way over to her husband's side and knelt down beside him, placing her hands over his, which were clasped together and as he rested his arms on his bent legs.

Jarrod turned his head and looked into Georgia's eyes which were filled with love and sympathy for him. Her love and compassion almost overwhelmed him at times. "Sorry, I don't mean to be so moody." He didn't either; he just couldn't seem to shake the depressed feeling that had been fighting to take over him completely in the past few hours.

"Ya got just cause to be, only it isn't yer fault, none of this is." She tilted her head and let it rest upon the top of his shoulder and looked into the fire. "Another week and March will be here." She paused and then added, "In fact, let's leave tomorrow morning. I'm pretty sure we've seen the last snowstorm." She didn't really like the idea of leaving early and taking the chance a freak snow storm would hit only she wanted Jarrod to have peace of mind.

Jarrod smiled knowing full well what the woman he'd taken for his wife was trying to do. He appreciated it and adored her even more for it. _"One of these days you'll have someone besides us to think about son, and the decisions you make will be prove to be even harder than this one."_ His father's words, ones spoken after Jarrod, had told his father that telling them about his enlistment had been the hardest decision he'd ever made. He and his comrades had never debated whether or not to do anything, or go anywhere, because of the weather. They'd simply plotted out their course and followed it come what may. But Georgia, she was his wife and had already given up being with her family and former friends to help him, to be with him. He didn't really want to ask her to take the risk of being caught out in some freak snowstorm.

Jarrod slipped his arm around Georgia's waist and moved her as close to him as possible. As he thought on all that had happened, all that might happen, Jarrod found himself saying "I wish Nick were with us" before he stopped to think whether or not to say it out loud.

Georgia smiled, "Yer hot tempered brother…do ya know where he's at?" She asked, as she thought on the brother Jarrod had talked about more than once.

"Last I heard he was getting ready to the Tennessee area." Jarrod fought the emotions inside him as he added quietly, "He fought in the *****Battle of Shiloh, don't know where he is at now though."

Georgia sucked in her breath. The Battle of Shiloh was famous for being the largest blood at the time it took place, though *****the Battle of Gettysburg took the claim of being the bloodiest battle from Shiloh in July of eighteen sixty-three.

As much as a part of Georgia wanted to keep Jarrod with her in the shack Mr. Cannon provided for them, she knew she couldn't do such a thing. She had to do what was best for him. "I'm really sure we've seen the last of the winter storms. Let's pack our things and head out first thing in the mornin'. From what Mr. Cannon wrote down on the map, we should arrive at the *Mississippi River by tomorrow night, or get a lot closer to it anyway. That is…if we put a fire underneath the horses' hooves and push it." Jarrod turned and faced Georgia, again overwhelmed when it came to the blessings he'd received since stumbling into her father's barn. He smiled and answered low, "We'll do that; however, for now I'm only interested in one fire." he said as he stood up, led her to their bed and then laid her down. A blizzard could have hit the shack at that moment and it would have failed to separate the couple.

~oOo~

"Do we have everythin?" Georgia asked, as she looked around the shack she and Jarrod had shared for the past three weeks. With the exception of their things that sat next to the door, the small building was back to looking as bare as when they arrived, with the exceptions of the short curtains that still hung across the window that was also near the door.

Jarrod, who had been walking around the room, nodded in the affirmative. "It looks like it." He walked over to the window and looked outside. The snow had gone down in height considerably, and the clear blue sky held not a single cloud. "If we…" Jarrod started to turn away from the window only to catch a movement out of the corner of his eye. He grabbed the rifle that sat with their belongings. "Get down!" He barked at Georgia as he went back to the window.

Georgia did as she did, pulling out the pistol she carried in her skirt pocket; the one Mr. Cannon had given her before he left, as she knelt on the other side of the window. "What's going on? And," she said as Jarrod shot her a questioning look, "don't ask me what I'm doin'. Remember, I've been in this with ya from the start."

Jarrod couldn't help but smile. She had a point. Besides, even if he wanted to argue he couldn't. The moment Georgia spoke he could hear his father saying how often Victoria had fought alongside him as they "traveled through more than one wilderness" while moving to California. "There's three men out there, two are dressed in Confederate uniforms." He answered as he watched the men stop their horses not fifty feet from the shack. "I don't think they're here for a Sunday brunch."

Georgia made her way to the window and peeked out. As she did so her face paled and she let out a gasp, causing Jarrod to take a quick look down and then, out of necessity, focused on the men again. "You know them?"

Did she know them? What Georgia would have given to be able to tell Jarrod she was clueless to their identity, but she couldn't lie, not after agreeing to be his wife and giving herself to him. Though, with the urgency of the situation, she didn't elaborate more than she had to, figuring she could tell him everything after this current crisis was over. That is, if they lived through it. "The two in uniform, their names are Major Jones and Captain Benson. Both men live in, or around, Kirksville…when they're home that is. Jarrod," she said as she sighed, "Rumor has it they travel through through Missouri scouting for 'Union soldiers who have the misfortune of being alone'. There'll be no deceivin' any of them, the officers or the civilian. They know me as well and they are experts when it comes to recognizin' false accents. To top all that, they hate anyone from the north with a passion."

Jarrod felt the weight of the world fall upon his shoulders once more. He had no reason to doubt what Georgia said, but he hated the fact that she was being caught in what was going to have to be a fight. "Keep down as much as possible." Jarrod barked as soft as he could. "Thanks to the Cannons this rifle is fully loaded, and we have extra bullets." He then busted the window and aimed his rifle.

The busting of the window made all three gentlemen outside stop dead in their tracks; they'd started for the shack thinking to rest and talk about their plans. Jarrod wasn't surprised when he heard one of the gentlemen yell, "Someone's in there!" All three men dove for nearby boulders, all medium in size, just in case bullets started flying.

Seeing no other choice, Jarrod yelled, "Mount your horses and get out of here! I won't shoot any of you as long as you ride away from here as fast as you can!"

"Look here Yankee! Ma' name's Major Thomas Jones! Yer on Confederate soil! Ya'll come out of there or me and ma' friends will come in after ya!"

Jarrod felt a surge of anger roll over him. No matter what the man claimed, Missouri's only real government was in Washingon D. C. "You've got that backwards!" Jarrod yelled back. "You're on Northern soil, and I'm not taking a step outside this shack. If you mount your horses and leave, I'll leave you be. If you take a step towards this shack, I'll defend myself!" He then fired a shot above the men as a warning that he was serious. While it pained both him and Georgia, neither one was surprised when the three men started cursing and walking towards the shack, firing as they did so.

Jarrod dropped to knees and pulled his trigger. One minute three men were walking towards the shack, the next Major Jones was lying dead on the ground while the other two men again dove for cover. Jarrod continued shooting while Georgia made her way over to the kitchen window. Seeing how it was slightly opened, she slid the barrel of the gun through the small opening while keeping down. She then tried to pull the trigger only her hands started shaking. However, when a bullet came close to hitting Jarrod, she able to get control of the shaking. She pulled the trigger and shot at the civilian praying that, if anything, she'd simply wound him enough to put him out of commission for awhile.

"He's not alone!" Captain Benson yelled as he watched his civilian friend grab his arm and duck down behind the boulder he was using. Then, due to the fact that the Major was dead and his friend's shooting arm wounded, the Captain yelled. "Hold yer fire! Let me get the major on the back of the horse and we'll leave ya alone!"

Captain Benson wasn't surprised when his friend barked, "Are you crazy? That shack is small enough, cin't be more than two or three of them in there!"

"And I'm the only able to pull a trigger!" the captain snapped back. "We'll leave long enough to bury Major Jones and then we'll come back, with more men!"

Jarrod, who could tell the men were talking again yelled. "Get your friend and get out of here!" He and Georgia watched as the men did just that. After the men disappeared he and Georgia, who knew the men would be back, then hurried out of the shack and threw their few belongings onto their horses...which were tethered behind the back of the shack. Wasting no time, the young couple were soon riding as fast and hard as they could towards the Missouri boundary and the Mississippi River.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter Twenty Five**

Having covered a considerable distance, Jarrod and Georgia now stood at the base of what Georgia called a mountain. Jarrod figured when he sent her out to California she could redefine her definition of that word. They could hear, but not see, the mighty Mississippi River off in the distance. Both were frustrated as they would be at the river only, somehow, they'd gotten off course and had wound up traveling extra miles because of it. Now they were trying to decide whether or not to continue on their journey or to make camp among the boulders.

"It's up to ya, Jarrod. I don't care either way." Georgia shrugged her shoulders and answered when Jarrod asked her what she wanted to do. She might have cared, only she was far too upset at the miscalculation when it came to the distance they would have to travel.

Instantly, Jarrod was concerned. That sort of reply wasn't the kind he'd come to expect from the woman he was now calling his wife. There was also more sorrow in her eyes than he'd ever seen. Something was bothering her. As he thought on it, Jarrod was shocked to realize the pained look in her eyes had been there since they fled the Cannon's shack. Then again, he inwardly sighed, maybe he wasn't so shocked. "Those men who were shooting at us back at the shack, how do you know them?" He asked after he led the horses into a clump of nearby trees and tethered the animals.

Georgia took the blankets off the horse and started to lay them down upon the ground, underneath a tree. "The two officers are, or were in the Major's case, friends of ma' father. Rumor's always had it they and my father have dealin's with the Missouri Raiders. The Major probably agreed ta talk ta the captain about doin' some more scoutin' fer the *****group they now run with. Ten ta one, it's a good thing we left that one house. Wouldn't surprise me if they had learned about the house and what supposedly went on. If they did, they would have dropped by sooner or later." It was a statement Georgia made not knowing that she was a hundred percent right. That's exactly what had happened; though, with no one there, the men had found nothing.

Georgia sat back on her heels and rubbed the palms of her hands together more than once…and looked away from Jarrod a number of times while she talked. Her actions told him there was something else, something she wasn't saying. As he joined her in laying out the blankets, it hit him like a tons of bricks that she had never said a word about the civilian who had been with the Confederate officers. All of a sudden he got a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. "What else is wrong? Does it have anything to do with the gentleman who was with the officers?" He asked as they then gathered what little wood they could find and built a campfire.

Georgia gazed into the fire which was beginning to grow, fighting to get herself to speak. When she finally started talking, Jarrod sat and simply listened. "This war is tearin' families apart right and left." Georgia stiffened and held herself erect. "Fathers against their sons, brothers against brothers, uncles or cousins, all are wonderin' who's gonna live and who's gonna die. Women havin' ta take over work meant for the men. Communication is hard even if the men do try to write home when they can." As she continued to talk about the effects of the war upon various families, Jarrod again felt sick to his stomach. He had the worst feeling he knew what she was going to say by the time she was finished. He was right.

"Jarrod," tears began forming in Georgia's eyes and then spilled out as she started sobbing, "The civilian with them is ma' daddy! I had ta shoot at ma' own father in the arm ta disable him from gettin' ta us!" By the time she was sobbing uncontrollably, Jarrod was holding her tightly against his chest and closing his own eyes. If only…two words that could begin so many sentences Jarrod could think of. For someone who had been blessed with the ability to use words to his advantage, Jarrod found himself without any words. Only when her crying had ceased did he dare to try and find something to say.

"It's not your fault." He whispered as he ran his hand down the back of her head. "It's this blasted war! It's doing so much damage, and doing it at every turn."

Georgia knew her husband spoke the truth; still, it didn't help ease the pain she was feeling. When she shivered involuntarily, Jarrod suggested she get under the blankets, they'd laid every single blanket they'd brought with them on top of each other in order to get the maximum benefit from them. As she did just that, Jarrod began looking around for any wood that they could use. It took a few minutes, but before long he'd gathered enough wood to start a camp fire. Once the fire was going well enough and wasn't afraid it would die out on them, Jarrod slid underneath the blankets and pulled Georgia to him. "If I could change things, I would. I never wanted to put you in a position where you would have to fight against any member of your family."

Georgia let out a frustrated chuckle. "Ya didn't put me in the position. I did that the day I insisted on bein' the one to take responsibility of hidin' ya from ma' daddy and others." She then took a deep breath and let out a sigh, "I knew the risk I was takin'. I mean, ma' actions could very well lead ta a broken down bridge per say. Still, it was a shock ta see him and his friends actually shootin' at us. It's one thing ta fight fer yer country, what yer believe in and another to side with thieves and raiders. But, Jarrod I never thought I'd have ta..." Georgia stopped speaking, her tears starting back up and taking over her speech.

Jarrod said nothing more as he simply held her, giving what comfort he could to the young woman who he had grown to love so dearly…a woman that had not just grit, but a sense of justice that made their connection so much stronger. Still, his heart felt heavy for her. He wished he knew what he could erase all her pain. As it was, all he could do was to cradle her in his arms as she held onto to him and cried herself to sleep.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter Twenty Six **

Early morning found Jarrod and Georgia breaking camp and loading up their supplies. For Georgia's sake, Jarrod offered to stay in the camp and simply rest. "That river can't be more than three of four miles away." Jarrod said, as he rolled up their blankets and tied them on the back of the horses.

"I thank ya fer thinkin' about me, Jarrod, really I do. However, we kin't stay and ya know it. As much as I'd like to take ya up on the offer, can we really afford it?" Georgia asked, as she looked at the bags that hung on the horses and surveyed the area they were in.

Jarrod again felt the weight that sat on his shoulders. He really would have liked to give him and Georgia, along with the horses, more of a rest only she was right. Their provisions _were_ dangerously low and who knew if they were being followed. No, the sooner they got on the move, the sooner they'd be in Illinois. The sooner they were in Illinois, the sooner he could locate a Union unit and let the army know what had happened. Then he could wire his family and let them know he was alive.

"Are you going to be okay?" Jarrod turned away from his horse and looked at his wife, who was still looking rather unsettled. It was a feeling he could only partially comprehend as he'd only shot at strangers; he'd never been in a position to have to shoot at one of his own relatives, let alone his own father. Just the idea of being in the position so many men found themselves in this war, having to watch their own relatives die, made him feel ill all over again.

Georgia gave him a half smile and nodded. "Okay", what a funny word, she thought to herself. When a person said okay, it could mean so many different things. She didn't know how "okay" she was; still, she knew she'd survive. "I'll be fine." She said as she tightened her cinch and then allowed Jarrod to help her up into the saddle. "Let's get movin' and movin' fast." She had no desire to hang around and leave Jarrod or her with no real cover should someone unexpectedly show up.

Jarrod sighed and mounted his horse. The first thing he planned on doing once the war had ended was to get a couple of horses, so he and his wife could go on a simple ride…just a simple and pleasurable ride. They wouldn't go slow, but they wouldn't go fast either. No, he'd make sure the two of them just rode around at a slow gallop, one that would carry them from one end of the ranch to the other. Once again, he wished he had more control over things than he did. "Sounds like a good idea," he gave her a quick smile. Soon the couple was once again riding their horses as fast and as hard as they could.

**~oOo~**

Captain Benson and Buck Marshall dismounted their horses and walked around the camp that Jarrod and Georgia had left behind. After burying the major, the captain and Mr. Marshall had made the rounds trying to find men who were able and willing to go with them. It had taken them longer than they had hoped. Still, the moment they had extra help the men had headed back to the shack. Each had been furious when they found the place empty. Though, the Captain and Mr. Marshall were even more furious when the three men that had came with them turned around and left, stating that the captain and Mr. Marshall would have to pay them plenty to chase after two lone Union soldiers.

"Ashes are still warm, but not very hot." Captain Benson said as he looked around and found the tracks that the two horses had left behind. "From the looks of these tracks they're heading for Illinois, could be there already." Captain Benson snarled, as he climbed back up into the saddle. "I know they couldn't have left all that long ago only the river's not that far away. They very well could be over state lines by now. I don't know that it's worth all the trouble to continue following the trail to find out. We could just as easily run into an enemy unit to boot."

Buck ran his good arm over the one that had been injured and began dwelling on the matter. If the two men who had left their camp were in fact in Illinois now, his friend was right; it would be a waste of time to follow them. If they were still in Missouri, the chances were high the two men wouldn't be for long. Buck knew too he had his crippled son and his family to think about. If it weren't for the fact that, when he was shot, Buck had caught a split second glance of his shooter there wouldn't even be a dilemma. As it was, the glance was not long enough to make any sort of identification, but just long enough to know something wasn't right. It was driving him up a wall and was, in all honesty, the reason he had talked his friend into trailing the two shooters in spite of the lead the two had gotten. He wanted to know what it was that he should know. "If I asked ya ta continue the chase with me, would ya go?" He slowly turned his head and looked at Captain Benson.

Captain Benson did not answer at first. He had been friends with Buck Marshall for years. They'd worked together, married women who might as well be sisters and raised their families together. He had always been there for the man that was, at times, more like a brother than a friend. Yet, to continue a chase where the odds were so low...that was something he was not too sure about. Just when Buck Marshall thought for sure he was going to lose his patience waiting for the captain to answer the man shook his head. "I'm sorry, Buck, not this time. If we were further in state, had more of a chance catching them, I'd stay with you in a heartbeat. As it is, they're probably in Illinois by now, or at least on the Mississippi River. And you know me; I don't do rivers!" He turned his horse around as he finished speaking and rode off, leaving Buck Marshall to decide just how badly he wanted to continue the chase.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter Twenty-Seven **

"I still say they should have had you transport these prisoners to the Union's prison camp in Ohio." The blonde haired guard looked at Nick, as the last of the prisoners passed through the gate and were taken away to join their fellow detainees. "_What_ were they thinking?"

Nick let out an amused chuckle as the gates began to close. "I sometimes wonder that myself." He then bade the guard goodbye as he turned and walked away.

"Hey, Lieutenant, wait up!" Major Dobbs, a red headed twenty-year old from Nevada who had helped Nick and the other Union soldiers transport the prisoners, yelled as he ran off Nick as he walked towards his horse.

Nick, of course, stopped and turned around. He didn't know whether to smile politely or groan. It's not that he didn't like the Major or anything, he just didn't have the time for idle chat…and the major was famous for that.

"What is it, Major?" Nick as the man reached him. His voice was polite enough, but there was a tone in his voice and a look in his eye that sent one very clear message…'this had better be good or, if you thought I was loud before, you'll find out just how loud I can really get.'

It was enough to make the major feel very uncomfortable, and it showed as he began to speak. "Before we head to Springfield," Major Dobbs said as he thought about the orders they had to rejoin their unit in that city, "I…well…I thought we could go find a saloon." The major shifted his weight slightly and continued, "I…I'd like buy you a beer or whisky; your choice."

Normally anyone offering to buy him a drink would find him accepting the offer with no hesitation, especially Major Dobbs. The man had stood by Nick through more than one battle, even saved his life once. However, Nick had been bothered by one dream after another, all of which had Jarrod calling him. Until he'd cross the Illinois border, the dreams all had his older brother urging him to come to Illinois. Once he'd crossed the state boundary, the dreams had Jarrod repeatedly asked him to hurry and get to the Mississippi River. Thinking on the dreams, Nick quickly turned down the offer. "Sorry, Major Dobbs," the tone in Nick's voice softened and the steel like look in his eyes left, "I appreciate the offer, I really do. I just don't have the time right now, maybe later though. Right now, I've got a meeting with my brother before I head out." Nick then excused himself and turned around and walked briskly over to where his horse was tethered to a hitching rail.

Nick then mounted his horse and rode off. _"I've got to meet my brother_", the reply to his comrade, sounded again and again in his ears as Nick rode mile after mile down the "road" he was on. He passed more than one tree and went around a boulder now, all the time praying and hoping that the dreams had not just been the result of worry and stress. Then again, how could he think the dreams were anything but someone, or something, telling him that Jarrod needed his help, the same way he, Nick, had needed help when he was stuck in the mine? He just hoped that once he did start for Springfield he could make up the time he was now losing.

**~oOo~ **

Georgia stood on the bank of the Mississippi, as she and Jarrod had stopped for a few minutes to let the horses rest. They could see into Illinois from where they stood. She gazed over the mighty rivers she had only heard about from her father and brothers. She felt as if she was in shock; the river seemed to go on forever. Only, when Jarrod slid his arms around her waist did she turn tilt her head slightly backwards and smiled up at hm. "That's an awfully long ways across. How are we gonna get ta the other side?"

At times like this Jarrod wish it was a simple creek to cross. As it was, he nodded towards his left side and said, "We ride alongside the river for another for four or five miles. There's a ferry that crosses twice a day, sometimes three."

While Georgia had never seen a ferryboat, she had heard her father and brothers talk enough to know you had to have money to get on one. As far as she knew, they had no money. "And just how are we gonna pay fer it?"

"_If you're ever by this way again, Captain, I'll be more than glad to take you across for free. You've been more then helpful to me and my family." _The words spoken by the gentleman who owned the ferry to Jarrod as he and a few of his comrades were transported across the river before the battle at Kirksville rang in Jarrod's ears. "I have a friend who ran the ferry boat at one time." Jarrod told her as he turned away from river and took a hold of her arm. "I am hoping he still does. Once we get across we'll ride until we come to the first town with a telegraph office. I need to wire both the army and my family; they need to know I'm alive."

As they walked to their horses, Georgia recalled the many conversations Jarrod and she had had concerning her traveling by train to California and to his parent's ranch. It all had seemed like a dream at the time only now, with the river by them, butterflies. "Are ya sure they'll want me there? Yer family; I mean. Ma' family's fightin' fer the south."

Jarrod knew her concerns were legitimate; he also knew his family. "Don't worry. Since we're going to renew the vows we exchanged privately in front of the first preacher we meet, I'll write a letter that I will send with you, along with the marriage certificate. They won't like that we started our life together in a common law marriage, only they'll be appeased by the fact that we were married in the eyes of God before I put you on that train. They're your family now too and the moment you step off that train, you'll be part of theirs, not just because you are my wife, but because they'll know you saved my life." he answered as the two of them reached their horses and mounted. Then, still feeling the need to get actually get into Illinois, the two began riding hard once more only to get the shock of their lives as they heard Mr. Marshall's voice off in the distance, behind them, swearing and cursing and the sound of a gun going off.

** . **


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter Twenty-Eight**

Nick stood in front of the ferryboat that was docked on the bank of the river, talking to a brown haired gentleman, who stood five feet seven inches with shoulders as broad as an ox. "I can't wait an hour." Nick said, as he pulled out some money from his pants pocket. "I'll pay you well if you take me and my horse over now, and I'll pay you just as nicely if you wait for me to return." If the man asked him why he couldn't wait, Nick just knew he'd explode.

When the man, one Terry Cotler, saw how much money Nick was holding in his hands, his eyes widened. He hadn't seen that much money on one man in a long time. "Yes, sir!" He said, as he took the money Nick was holding out to him. "Only sir, you do realize that, even though the Union Army now has control of the northeastern part of Missouri, there are many men still fighting over there for the Confederate side?"

Nick nodded, as he led his horse onto the area of the ferry meant for animals. "I am very well aware of that." A small portion of Nick was telling him if he realized what consequences he could face if he was found anywhere but heading to Springfield. The larger part was asking how he could do any different, when time and time again Jarrod had called out to him in his dreams, and when something seemed to be pulling him literally across the famous Mississippi River. As the ferry began crossing the famous river, Nick began running the dreams through his mind, lingering on the last thing in the last dream the longest.

_"NICK!" Jarrod's voice rang through the air loud and clear as Nick rode his horse along Missouri's side of the Mississippi River. "Hurry, please! Help us! We need help!"_

Who was "us"? That part bothered Nick more than anything. Everyone in Jarrod's unit had been accounted for, dead, wounded or alive, after the battle in Kirksville, but Jarrod. Only Jarrod was listed as missing in action. This being the case, Nick couldn't figure out why his brother used the terms "us" and "we"? By the time the ferry stopped on the other side, Nick was fit to be tied. "Give me at least an hour before you decide I'm not coming back." Nick said as he led his horse off the boat. "I'll pay you the same amount if you do." Paying the man as much money as he was would leave Nick almost flat out broke, but he didn't care. How could he when he had the strongest impression it was imperative that the ferry would be an absolute necessity? "I really don't plan on being that long though." Nick told the man as he mounted his horse.

The man grinned from ear to ear, as he patted the money that was now in his coat pocket. "For the amount of money you're paying me? Take as long as you need, mister!"

Nick said nothing, as he mounted his horse and started riding the bank of the river as fast as his horse could carry him. The whole time he was praying like crazy that he'd meet up with Jarrod soon and that he, Nick, wouldn't be too late help his older brother and whoever was with him out of the trouble he felt they may be in.

**~oOo~ **

Jarrod did his best to keep one eye on what was in front of him and one eye on his wife as they were in the race for the lives. Buck Marshall and three gentlemen, who Mr. Marshall had the stupid luck of coming across, men willing to ride with him for a small price, were now hot on their trail. The fact that the moment Mr. Marshall had realized it was his own daughter who had shot at him, had intensified the situation a hundred times over. It had been one thing to realize Georgia had left the family for a total stranger; it was another to realize it was a man from the north to boot. In his wrath, Buck Marshall had sworn to kill them both. Thank goodness the shots the men had fired had only served to make the horses Jarrod and Georgia were riding move even faster. They were thankful that Mr. Marshall and his "friends" were too far away for their pistols to do anything but make a lot of noise.

Jarrod and Georgia might not have had a problem only Georgia's horse stumbled, causing Georgia to fall. The moment the horse stumbled Jarrod pulled up on his reins and jumped off his horse, grabbing his rifle out of its sheath as he did so.

"Are you okay?" Jarrod asked, as he threw his arm around his wife's waist and practically dragged her behind a couple of huge boulders were nearby, cursing their luck as their horses took off running.

"I am fer now?" Georgia said as she pulled the pistol she had strapped to her side of its holster, "What are we gonna do, Jarrod? There's four of them and only two of us, and we're getting low on bullets."

Jarrod didn't answer, as he jerked backwards as a bullet hit the boulder they were behind. Only then did he start to answer her question. "We'l…" he never finished his sentence, as they heard the pounding of a horse behind them. Both of them whirled around ready to shoot only to have Jarrod's jaw fall to the ground while Georgia was amazed to find Jarrod pulled her arm down as a Union officer flew off his horse and joined them. However, she was downright shocked when the officer positioned himself next to Jarrod and heard him say, "Well big brother, looks like it's going to be you owing me one, for a change."

As much as Jarrod wanted to ask Nick where on earth he had come from, he didn't as Mr. Marshall and his men had gotten close enough to be even more of a dangerous threat.

As he and Nick started shooting, Jarrod wasn't surprised when Georgia's face went deathly pale. Georgia clutched her pistol with both hands, hands that shook uncontrollably. She tried with all her will to point it at the men riding towards them, but her eyes kept going to the man that rode at the front of the trio…her father. Even with the distance between them, she could see the determination on his face. She was sure that the closer he and the other two men got she'd also see disappointment and hate. The very idea of actually seeing those things caused her not only to shake, but caused tears to run down her cheeks. "I'm sorry, but I can't do it again." she whispered. She was suddenly bought out of her despair when a shot was heard and whizzed past her ears.

"Stay down!" Nick barked at her as he took another shot at the men.

Jarrod backed his brother up as he told Georgia, "No reason for you to start shooting at anyone!" He knew he spoke the truth…Nick had just taken down one of the men riding with Mr. Marshal, and he'd gotten onel which only left Mr. Marshall and one other man.

"Where have you been, who is she," Nick asked as he glanced at Georgia, concerned the young woman who was still a bit pale would faint on them. "And who are they?" Nick asked, as he looked at the dead man on the riverbank and watched the two remaining gentlemen jump off their horses and dive for cover behind some nearby trees.

"I was wounded in Kirksville. Georgia here took mercy on me." Jarrod answered, as he ducked a bullet and succeeded in shooting the last man with Mr. Marshall.

Before Jarrod could say another word, Nick received the shock of his life when he heard Mr. Marshall shout in a strong southern accent…one that he was purposely making stronger than it normally was, "Ya ain't gettin' rid of me that easy! Ah got plenty of bullets with me! Yer turned mah' daughter against the south, against her own family and took her from mah' home! Ah'm gonna kill ya both and whoever's with ya!"

Nick looked at Jarrod with a look that spoke one very loud and clear message. **"The moment we get out of this, you ****_will_**** explain ****_everything_**** like yesterday!"**


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter Twenty Nine**

**A/N Many towns have come and gone throughout history. This being the case, the town "Starlight" is totally made up. At least, my research didn't bring up a town by the name, though it did bring up a **_**Star City, Illinois. **_

**OOOO**

Tired from hunting, and chasing down two of the three horses that had run off, Nick, Jarrod and Georgia stood on the ferry, as it crossed the Mississippi. Quiet reined as their minds were still on the fight they'd left behind them, along with the four dead men who Nick and Jarrod had had to cover up with rocks…as they had no way to bury them properly.

"_We have only have a few bullets left." Nick said, as he looked around. Then, noticing the few boulders they were nearby actually formed somewhat of a U shape, and the end of the "U" was actually closer to Mr. Marshall than where they currently were hiding, he spoke to Jarrod, but looked at __Georgia__. "I'm going to follow these rocks and get closer. I wish there was another way." He did too, but there wasn't._

"_Do what ya have to do to get us out of here alive!" Jarrod answered as he pulled Georgia to him. While he was confused as to why Jarrod felt the need to hold the young woman so close to him, Nick began making his way to where he needed to be. To distract Buck Marshall and give Nick time, Jarrod fired off the last of his bullets, making sure to keep Georgia down behind the rock. It worked. Mr. Marshall started firing back at him and missed seeing Nick moving behind the rocks. _

_When Jarrod did not return fire, Mr. Marshall assumed both brothers were out of bullets and stood up. "Ah told ya Ah'd…." He started yelling and walking only to hear the sound of a gun going off and feel the bullet go deep into his chest. His eyes widened and he stiffened. "I can't…" he quit speaking as he gasped and fell down to the ground, having been hit by one of Nick's bullets._

"What are we going to do once we get off the ferry?" Nick walked over to where Jarrod stood facing the river; Georgia sat on some boxes nearby.

Jarrod looked at Nick, who kept glancing towards Georgia. Jarrod didn't need all his schooling to know what his brother was really saying. "You'll need to go back to your unit. As far as Georgia goes," Jarrod paused hoping his brother would be able to find it in him to control himself once he heard what he, Jarrod, had to tell him. "We have a common law marriage." He wasn't surprised when Nick's eyes widened. "I love her Nick, and not just because she saved my life, though that _is_ how we met." He began telling Nick the whole story, but kept it quiet as to avoid having the ferry driver over hear him and to spare Georgia from reliving the past few months.

When Jarrod finished and told Nick what he planned on doing, Nick couldn't help but close his eyes and shake his head. He realized not only what an awkward position his brother had put himself in, but he also realized that Jarrod's 'Georgia' was the very same Georgia Marshall, he'd been asked to look up after the war. He sighed, "I wish I knew what to tell you only I don't. Though, you're going to have to figure something out. One word out of her mouth and some ornery fellow is going to kill her or worse." He paused and then said, "When you and I get a chance to talk more privately, I have something to tell you." He didn't want to chance Georgia overhearing what he had to say. He figured she didn't need to hear that out of all the males in her immediate family only her crippled brother had survived the war at the moment.

Jarrod would have asked what Nick needed to talk to him about only he was too busy cringing at his brother's words, though he couldn't deny what his brother said either. He would have to talk to Georgia in private and discuss the matter. He would have started the conversation right then only the ferry had reached its destination before the thought could finish getting out of his head.

Nick handed the gentleman in charge of the ferry a few more coins. The money Nick had given him was for some more ammunition, and it caused the man to start grinning from ear to ear. He was sure Nick had paid him a total of two or three day wages.

"Com one, let's get going." Jarrod hurried over to where Georgia had stood up and walked with her off the boat while leading his horse; Nick grabbed the reins to his horse and quickly caught up with his brother. Both men kept their ears and eyes wide open and spoke very little. Even in Union territory one could never guarantee anything.

**~oOo~**

By the time Jarrod, Georgia and Nick rode into the small town of Starlight, it was getting dark. "Why don't the two of you get us a couple of rooms, while I send a few wires off?" Nick asked, as the three of them reached the boarding house. "Don't worry; I'll take care of the telegram to the family while I'm at it." Of course, he had no intention of telling anyone in the army that he'd joined his brother on 'the wrong side of the river'…and told Jarrod as much. He also left off the fact he was going to wire the family for more money also. The last thing Jarrod or Georgia needed to worry about at the moment was their money supply.

"Thanks," Jarrod said, as he and Georgia disappeared into the boarding house. Once inside, Jarrod wasted no time in getting the rooms they needed and finding how where they could find the preacher when morning arrived. Afterwards, he and Georgia wasted no time taking the few items they had with them and disappearing into their room.

The moment the room's door was shut, Georgia sat down next to the window. The tears that had wanted to come since her husband and brother in law took care of her father's body began to flow. Jarrod was kneeling beside her in no time at all and holding her in his arms. "I'm so sorry, Georgia. Really I am, so is Nick. If there had been any other way…"

He wasn't surprised when Georgia blurted out, "Why can't men jist grow up and get along! Why do families have ta be turned against each other and torn apart?" She pulled out of his embrace and began yelling, "WHY?"

Jarrod's only answer was to forcefully, but gently, pull her back into his embrace and hold her while she continued sobbing and mumbling the question "Why?" over and over. Only when she'd stopped mumbling and sobbing did he lead her to the bed. Once they were lying down, he again pulled her close and held her just tight enough for her to let her know he wasn't going anywhere. Soon he could feel her relax. Just before she fell asleep Georgia whispered, "I love ya, Jarrod Barkley."

Jarrod smiled and then prayed he would be proven right when it came to the rest of his family. After all, he still had the war to go back to.


End file.
